


Heaven Help Them

by Couyfish, Threshie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Baby Angels (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bisexual Sam Winchester, Canon Divergent At 13.22, Celestial Wavelength Sorta Mpreg, Cover Art, Emotional Baggage, Feels, Fluff, Good Person Gadreel (Supernatural), Guilty Dean Winchester, Heaven, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Jack Kline Has Powers, M/M, Nephilim, Parent Castiel (Supernatural), Parent Dean Winchester, Parent Gadreel, Parent Sam Winchester, Post-Mark of Cain, Pregnant Dean Winchester, Pregnant Sam Winchester, Sastiel - Freeform, Sweet Jack Kline, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2019-09-11 23:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 72,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16861891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Couyfish/pseuds/Couyfish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threshie/pseuds/Threshie
Summary: Gadreel returns from the Empty just as Sam, Dean, Castiel and Jack are trying to solve Heaven’s angel shortage. If they can overcome the past, they might just be able to secure Heaven’s future.New chapter every other Tuesday. ♥





	1. Dangerous Things

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the latest co-written story by Threshie and Couyfish! As you can see from the tags, this one deals with Heaven's angel shortage, Mpreg (but not in any literal physical changes sense, as baby angels in their true forms are lil wavelengths of light), and Gadreel coming back from the dead at the end of Season 13's timeline. 
> 
> It's a little more serious than our usual fare, so expect more angst this time 'round, especially from Dean (oh how Dean Winchester can angst.) Cover art is by Threshie, by the way. ♥ We're super excited about this story, and will be uploading a new chapter each Tuesday. Comments and kudos always appreciated!

It was quiet in the bunker. After all of the fighting and nearly-dying that had happened that final day in Apocalypse World, they'd all been holding their breath a little, seeing if it would last.

It had been a couple months, and nothing horrible had followed them home, though. Sam said he'd taken care of Lucifer, and Michael was locked on the other side of the now-closed portal between the worlds. The hunters from the other world, along with Mary, had settled into Lebanon as members of the community. Sam and Dean’s mom called them occasionally to check on them, but she seemed dedicated to helping the newcomers integrate with modern society. Dean was pretty sure she related to them a lot there, with how she’d been behind on technology and such when she’d first been brought back by Amara.

Bottom line was, the Devil was dead, and his son lived in the bunker with them now. Thinking about all of that still made Dean's head hurt. They had enough weirdness in their version of the world, they didn't need to start importing any extra.

Sam was off at the library right now, and Cas and Jack had gone to the store. Dean had the whole bunker to himself.

Which was why the knocking startled him so much.

The knock sounded again, only a bit louder. The sound echoed through the bunker. It wasn’t Sam. He could open the bunker with his eyes shut. Maybe it was Jack?

Jack ought to have been with Cas, though.

Dean hopped up from the chair he'd been lazing in, leaving his laptop playing Queen. Freddie Mercury's voice drifted after him as he climbed the staircase. _'I want to break free...'_

Unlocking the bunker door, Dean pulled it open, expecting Jack's little wave hello.

"See, kid, if you used the secret knock..."

Standing in front of him was a man that was just shy of his own height, dressed in a black leather jacket and dusty blue jeans. Dean recognized him instantly as the angel’s gaze met his, cool blue eyes narrowed in a frown.

“Dean,” Gadreel breathed, expression softening. He stepped closer to the doorway, pressing a hand on the door in case Dean decided to slam it in his face. “Please. I must speak with Castiel.”

Dean just stared at him. Just the sight of that face brought back a tidal wave of guilt and death and darkness. Dean had never looked at Gadreel without the Mark of Cain affecting him.

It had been years. Years since Cas came back with news that the angel tablet was broken, and that Gadreel had sacrificed himself for their cause.

All of that flew through Dean's mind in seconds. He blinked finally, snapping out of it, and asked the only question that mattered right now.

"How come you're not dead?"

“I…I’m not entirely sure. Is Castiel here? I have gone to Heaven. So much has happened, I must speak with him.”

Gadreel moved closer and as he did, Dean could smell the soft scent of whiskey and leather off of him. Hadn’t Gadreel’s bartender body died when he did?

“Is it true that angels are almost extinct?” The soldier continued, frown turning sad. “Naomi spoke of a Nephilim. If you mean to hunt it, let me be useful and help you.”

Dean was armed — he was always armed — but the knife was in his boot. When the angel stepped closer, instinct took over, and he snapped a hand up, planting a palm square on Gadreel's chest to stop him.

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he said grimly. "And I'm not letting you talk to Cas until you tell me who you're working for now."

If what Cas said about his death was true, Gadreel had died to bust them out of Heaven's jail, but he'd also died talking about helping to save Heaven from Metatron. Maybe he worked for the dicks upstairs, especially if he'd reported back to them. As far as Dean was concerned, Cas owed Heaven nothing.

Gadreel glanced down at the hand on his chest then back up to Dean, frowning all over again.

“Dean, I gave my life to aid Castiel in his mission. To save Heaven.” He carefully put a hand over Dean’s and squeezed it tight. “My loyalties lie with him. I only wish to speak with him. I’m not here to hurt you or Sam.”

Maybe it was the absence of the Mark of Cain, or maybe Castiel's word to back him up. For whatever reason, Dean looked into the guy's eyes and believed him.

Cas had gone to the Empty and come back, so another angel might be able to. He'd seen a hell of a lot weirder things this year.

Retrieving his hand from Gadreel's grip, Dean stepped aside and waved for him to go through the door.

"We need to talk about the Nephilim first."

Gadreel walked inside slowly, glancing several times back at Dean. “Do you know where it is? Naomi wants it alive, but she’s desperate to restore Heaven. We must find it and kill it.”

Dean closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it up. He really hoped this was the right decision.

From downstairs and far away, another Queen song had just started.

_'Each morning I get up, I die a little. Can barely stand on my feet...'_

"C'mon," Dean sighed, leading the angel down the steps and through the big main room, over to the computer and the table. He punched the spacebar to pause the video just as Freddie asked, _'Can anybody find me somebody to love?'_

"Have a seat," Dean said, and pulled out a chair for Gadreel. "And listen to me very carefully, okay? Nobody's killing the Nephilim."

Gadreel sat heavily into the chair.

“We’re…not? Are you working with Heaven?”

Dean sat, too, and immediately scooted his chair closer to Gadreel's. He braced his elbows on the table and leaned forward toward the angel. It was still weird looking at him, hearing his voice again.

"Hell no," he said firmly. "And Heaven's view on things is really slanted. Here's the Cliff's Notes: the Nephilim's name is Jack. He's the son of Lucifer, which means he's insanely strong, and that's probably why Naomi wants him."

He paused and glanced back the way they'd come, like Cas might arrive and help him out here. No such luck.

Gadreel suddenly leaned in closer too, frowning at Dean again.

“Naomi believes that Heaven’s light will go out if more angels are not created, but a Nephilim should not exist. Desperate as we are, you must see that Dean. ‘Jack’ could destroy Heaven and Earth.”

Dean sighed, shaking his head. They'd been going over all of this crap for the past year, but Gadreel hadn't exactly been around for that.

"No, he won't. He's an innocent kid." Sitting up, the hunter took a deep breath. "And he's Castiel's adopted son. Hell, he's Sam's son, too, and mine. Cas told us about Heaven, and he's not handing Jack over either. I don't even wanna know how exactly they think he'd make more angels, but if Naomi wants him she's gonna have to come through all three of us."

Gadreel took a cue from Dean and sat back in his chair, arm still resting on the table. He looked away and narrowed his eyes in thought.

“…Perhaps the Son of Satan was not born evil.” He turned back to Dean and slowly got to his feet. “I should return to Heaven then.”

Dean stood, too, frowning.

"I think you shouldn't. Cas will be back any minute, and you can talk to him like you wanted," he said. "Jack is with him, and I wanted you to understand ahead of time — you try to hurt him and Cas will kick your ass." Before the angel could reply, he held up a hand. "You and Jack have some things in common, too. He's made mistakes. Everybody's treated him like he's evil."

He looked the angel in the eye.

"But he's got a good heart."

Gadreel’s expression softened and he sat back down, keeping his eyes on anywhere but Dean.

“I imagine his life has not been easy,” he said, leaning an arm on the table again. He tapped his fingers lightly as he thought for a moment. “Naomi told me that all would be forgiven when I came home, as long as I brought the Nephilim.” He shook his head quickly, though, finally meeting Dean’s gaze. “But I have no intention of taking him. I just wanted to have a chance to speak with Castiel. I cannot make myself trust Naomi.”

Dean stepped closer and patted him on the shoulder.

"You and Cas both," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. The guy really had changed his tune by the end, hadn't he? Not that Dean had doubted Cas's word. The Mark had made it tough to think anything positive back then, though.

Thinking about all of the darkness, the murder he'd committed under that thing's influence made his stomach twist in knots. He'd never taken his hand off of Gadreel's shoulder, he realized, blinking down at it.

The angel had noticed, too, and put a hand over Dean’s again.

“The Mark is gone,” he said, taking Dean’s arm and turning it to look it over. He ran his fingers over the spot where the Mark of Cain had been so long ago.

Suddenly, Dean was uncomfortable. He pulled his arm back, stepping quickly around the angel's chair toward the kitchen.

"That's a long, terrible story," he said over his shoulder, smiling without much humor. "You're a guest, can I get you a drink or anything?"

“I’m an angel, Dean.” Gadreel trailed after him, looking confused. He matched pace with him easily, scanning over the bunker as they went. “This Nephilim. Jack. You said he is a child? Did he take a more human form, then?” Gadreel looked at him again. “I suppose he must have. You still have your eyes.”

Dean made a beeline for the fridge and pulled out a beer. What a day...it wasn't even noon yet. He popped the cap off on the edge of the kitchen counter, sending it pinging off somewhere across the room, and took a sip of the drink.

"Jack should be a baby," he told Gadreel frankly. "He's not even a year old. Since angels, demons, everybody's been trying to kill him since before he was even born, though, he ended up a full grown guy. To protect himself."

Gadreel scowled, first at the beer and then at Dean, crossing his arms over his chest. He had a V-necked blue tee under his jacket and when he crossed his arms, three scars peeked out of his collar.

“Not even a year old and he must protect himself. I see why Castiel took an interest. He enjoys protecting dangerous things.” Gadreel glanced Dean’s way pointedly.

Dean looked back, raising his eyebrows.

"Thanks, I think."

In the back of his mind, he was curious where the scars came from. Angels healed their vessels — were they on the bartender dude from before he ever said yes to Gadreel?

"You and Cas are so old, a year must seem like a second to you," he continued, sipping the beer again. Where the hell were Cas and Jack? They'd said they were just running to the store, and it had been at least an hour since they left.

“But not to humans. I’ve kept watch over humanity before. All the changes that a human goes through in a year are astounding.” Gadreel stepped up right in front of Dean, resting a hand on the refrigerator door. “They can become entirely different.”

Dean turned a little and found his back pressed to the fridge, the angel just a few inches away from actually touching him. Up this close, Gadreel's arched brows and chiseled jaw were practically unreal. Worse, he was near enough for the scents of whiskey and leather to reach Dean again. There was a touch of cologne, too. Just needed a little cherry pie, and it would've been tailor-made for Dean.

"This's the real me," he told Gadreel, looking him in the eyes. "I didn't change — the me you met before was already changed, and I just changed back. This's me."

Gadreel’s eyes flicked away and he took a step back.

“And this is me,” he murmured, pacing away across the room. “The same.”

His back straightened up suddenly, and he turned to look at the door in alarm.

Dean sat the beer on the counter, sitting up and frowning at the door.

"What is it?"

“The Nephilim,” Gadreel breathed. Squaring his shoulders, he marched back out the door in only a couple strides.

Dean hurried after him.

"His name is Jack!"


	2. Brothers and Regrets

They arrived in the main room just in time to see Jack stepping off of the stairs. The kid took one look at Gadreel and stopped short, frowning uncertainly.

"Dean," he began, talking to the hunter but keeping his eyes on the angel.

Dean put a hand on one of Gadreel's shoulders, waving for Jack to stay back with the other.

"It's okay. He's...uh, he's an old friend of Cas's."

Gadreel glanced back at Dean’s touch, then back to the Nephilim. He seemed to relax ever so slightly, showing his empty hands to Jack.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Where is Castiel?”

Jack glanced at Dean, then back Gadreel. He raised a hand and waved a little, blinking.

"Hello. He's coming, he said he had to lock the car," he explained, smiling and stepping closer. "You look familiar."

Dean let go of Gadreel's shoulder, gesturing between them.

"Jack, this's Gadreel. Gadreel, Jack Kline."

Jack's eyes widened at the angel's name, and he opened his mouth, then shut it again.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Gadreel told the teen. He moved closer to Jack, leaning to see if Cas had started down the stairs yet. As Castiel wasn’t in sight, Gadreel started examining Jack very critically. He reached a cautious hand out and gently poked Jack’s shoulder like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. 

Jack didn't seem particularly intimidated by him, but Dean lingered close by Gadreel's side anyway, watching them.

Regular angels were no match for Jack's powers in a fight. The kid was in no danger, he told himself. It was tough to convince himself Jack didn't need to be protected, considering how Gadreel had arrived talking about a Nephilim hunt.

Footsteps sounded from the staircase, and Dean saw Cas descending with his arms full of grocery bags.

Gadreel seemed so nervous all of the sudden. He didn’t try to get Cas’s attention. He just stood where he was and waited until the other angel noticed him.

And Cas did — he and Dean met each other’s eyes, Dean wondering how to explain the whole situation in a glance, and then Cas stepped right past him and hurried to Jack and Gadreel.

"Gadreel!" Dean turned in time to see Cas plunk the groceries on the floor right there and throw his arms around the other angel.

Jack smiled like this was the most heartwarming thing he'd ever seen.

“Castiel. I’m so sorry,” Gadreel said softly, hugging his brother in return. Dean could see him squeeze his eyes shut tightly. “For everything.”

Speaking of brothers and regrets, watching Cas pat the other angel’s back, Dean realized that sooner or later Sam would be home. The whole reason Gadreel had ever been in the bunker, ever caused so much damage, ever been able to kill Kevin and many others, was Dean. It was done now, and Sam had eventually forgiven him, but that didn’t mean Dean had ever forgiven himself.

In retrospect, without the Mark of Cain to color his opinions, Dean could see that killing Kevin was strategic. It was Metatron’s idea, not Gadreel’s, and was purely because he was a Prophet. It still hurt to think about it. And then the ordeal with forcing Gadreel to stop possessing Sam…Sam couldn’t possibly look at Gadreel and not see something awful, could he?

“We’ve all made mistakes.” Cas’s voice interrupted his dark thoughts. “You can only do what you feel is right, and that’s what you did in the end.”

“I saw you die,” Jack added, bemused. “When I was Castiel.” 

Not creepy at all, kid, Dean thought.

Cas let go of Gadreel and glanced at Jack, nodding. He turned back to Gadreel.

“Yes. How did you get out of the Empty?”

Gadreel kept a hand on Cas’s back, seemingly hesitant to let go of him. 

“I heard your voice. It woke me from my sleep. The…being there, it was furious with me. It told me about your awakening. I wanted to obey. I wanted to sleep. But try as I might, I could not rest. I stayed still, I stayed quiet — it wasn’t enough! It attacked me. Tried to force me to stay unconscious. But every time that I woke up, it was there, more furious than before…” 

Gadreel tugged the collar of his shirt down, showing some familiar symbols he wore carved into his chest at the time of death. They were scarred over. 

“The Empty’s guardian threw me out and Naomi found me.” 

“The keeper of the Empty is less than pleasant,” Cas agreed, resting a hand on the other angel’s shoulder again. Despite himself, he smirked a little, and Dean knew he was probably glad the thing had been disturbed again. From Cas’s description, the Empty’s cosmic being in charge was a real dick.

The scars on Gadreel’s chest were from messily carved in cuts. Dean remembered Cas describing him using the same symbol Metatron had had suicide bomber angels use to try and paint Cas as willing to throw away his followers. So much death and darkness back then…as if the Mark of Cain hadn’t already been drowning him in it.

“Listen, guys,” he spoke up finally, stepping over and picking up the grocery bags Cas had brought. “We don’t have to stand around — let’s go sit down and talk. It’s about time for lunch.” 

This way Sam wouldn’t just walk in and see Gadreel right when he came in the door. Dean was dreading his reaction to it. Thanks to Gadreel, Cas hadn’t been allowed to stay in the bunker when he was human and the other angels were hunting him. Dean hadn’t forgiven himself for that, either, but Cas seemed completely warm and accepting of the other angel now, so he’d try to do the same.

Lighten the hell up, Dean told himself, peeking into the bags of groceries. "Ooh — whoever got the giant bag of gummi bears, you're sharing, right?"  


* * *

  
Sam’s arms were barely long enough to keep all the books from toppling off the stack as he made his way down the bunker stairs. 

Pinching his bottom lip, he checked the cup of coffee on top. Still upright. So far so good. Crab-walking down the last couple of steps, Sam breathed a sigh of relief. 

He’d spent all morning reading up on angels and Heaven and more angels. His eyes had started to cross when he gave up and took all the books with him. 

The hunter he’d borrowed them from, Humner, said he could borrow them as long as he wanted. The guy was really excited that someone else wanted to read about angels. Most hunters just wanted to know about monsters. 

Stepping slowly along, Sam headed toward his room. Comfy pajamas and a hot coffee refill were only seconds away. 

Voices drifted to him from the big main room. Oh, good, Cas and Jack got home, otherwise Dean would have been sitting alone here all day.

"Go fish," Jack said, sounding amused. "You should have let us play Poker, Dean."

"Hell no, have you seen Cas's Poker face?" Dean scoffed. He sounded like maybe he was forcing the joking tone a bit, though.

Smiling to himself, Sam carefully turned to stop off in the main room. 

“Who’s winning?” He asked cheerfully, looking between the group. Cas, Dean, Jack and… 

Sam gawked, dumping the stack of books down onto the nearest table. The cup of coffee that was so carefully balanced on top of them tipped off, exploding like a bomb all over Sam’s feet. He ignored it, his eyes locked on the man at the far end of the table. 

Gadreel stared back, his hand of cards slipping a bit in his fingers. He sat them aside and stood up. 

“Sam.” 

Sam scowled, glancing at Dean. 

“What the hell is he doing here?” He stepped further into the room and jabbed a finger in Gadreel’s direction. “You’re alive? How are you alive?” He snapped. 

Dean also dropped his cards, hopping up from his chair and starting toward Sam.

“It’s…it’s complicated, okay? He’s not sure.” He had a guilty look in his eyes, though. “He’s on our side now. Ask Cas.”

Jack, meanwhile, seemed surprised at Sam’s reaction.

A wave of painful memories crashed over Sam’s mind. Kevin’s death and all the horrible things to follow. His body not being his own — the same nightmare he always saw behind his eyes when he looked at Lucifer. He tightened his jaw and pointed to the door as he struggled to keep calm. 

“Get out. Right now.” 

Gadreel started that way around the table immediately, keeping his head low. He looked as guilty as Dean did. Sam was surprised he had moved at all. Sam averted his eyes to the floor as the angel passed. 

Castiel stood from the table and moved over to stand beside Sam. He and Dean exchanged a look as Cas passed him, and without a word Sam’s brother followed Gadreel away. He wouldn’t look at Sam as he passed, either. It felt like deja vu. They both disappeared out the door to the staircase.

“Sam,” Cas said softly, turning to Sam. “I’m sorry. We should have called you so that you weren’t surprised by this.”

Sam took a slow deep breath. Yelling at Cas was bad. The angel always had the best intentions. 

“How can you two just…invite him in? I know he helped you escape Heaven — but don’t you remember EVERYTHING he did before that?” Sam gestured to Jack. “Do you really trust him around Jack? Gadreel wants his family to love him! They’d probably give him a king’s welcome if he took Jack back there!” 

“He told Dean as much himself,” Cas admitted, blue eyes sad. “He has no intentions of working with Heaven, Sam. He said that they want Jack alive, and before he spoke with us, he believed that any Nephilim should be killed.” 

If he was trying to be reassuring, this wasn’t helping. At least it sounded like he was being honest.

The little scrape of a chair reminded Sam that Jack was still in the room. The kid had sat down his cards finally, and was heading for them.

“I can’t forget like you can I guess,” Sam whispered to Cas as Jack came closer. He looked at the teenager sadly. Sam was only gone for six hours. Knowing Jack, he probably followed Dean and Castiel’s lead, letting his guard down around Gadreel. They HAD been sitting around playing cards together. 

Castiel put a hand on Sam's shoulder, looking at him seriously. 

"I'm not excusing the past, Sam, but he’s here now. Just like I am here, even after slaughtering countless angels and humans when I released the Leviathans.” 

His gaze flicked to the door, guiltily. Jack stepped up beside him, eyes bright, and looked between him and Sam. 

“And just like Dean is here after torturing souls in Hell,” Cas continued, looking at the Nephilim. “We have all done unforgivable things, Sam, but we’re trying to make amends. I believe he is, too.”

Jack frowned softly.

“Is this why the first thing he said to you was ‘sorry’, Castiel?”

Cas just sighed.

“Jack,” Sam turned to him. He wasn’t sure where to begin, but Jack was smart enough that he could be honest. Sam looked back to Cas, temper cooling. 

“I understand that. I’m no less guilty than anyone here. But this is our HOME. Can’t we talk to him without him wandering around? What if he’s lying? There’s hundreds of things he could mess with down here. I don’t want to be the bad guy. I’m just saying…we have a dungeon.” 

Sam held up a hand quickly in case Cas wanted to interrupt. “Just for a day or two so we can figure him out. Then he can leave.”

Jack glanced at the door, frowning.

“What did he do?”

“Sam might not want you to know,” Cas told the kid patiently. To Sam, he added, “If you want to imprison him, I doubt he would blame you. I do want you to know that I also allowed him here — it wasn’t just Dean.” He gestured to the door. “Do you want me to tell them?”

“No. I’ll tell them.” Sam rubbed his forehead. Great. The whole bunker was united against him. He really was the bad guy. He patted Jack’s shoulder and ducked out of the kitchen to go find his brother.


	3. Empty Talk

“I should never have come here,” Gadreel said over his shoulder as he started up the stairs to the bunker door. “I’m sorry. I’ll return to Heaven, tell them the Nephilim is gone, or — I don’t know.” The tightness in his voice told Dean that it wasn’t just Sam who was upset from their meeting.

“Running away won’t fix anything,” Dean said, finally catching up enough to grab his shoulder. “Just wait!” He pointed back the way they’d come, trying to keep his voice steady. “That back there? You kind of deserved it — we both do. It’s not gonna be all sunshine and flowers, but if you really want to fix it, you’ll stick around.”

“Sam will not reason with me and I do not blame him!” The angel snapped. He shrugged Dean’s hand off easily and turned to face him, seeming several inches taller than him thanks to the stairs. “I know what it’s like to be the hand of evil. All that I’ve done…” Gadreel looked down at his hands, balling them into fists. “I cannot forgive myself. Why should Sam?” 

It was like he’d read Dean’s mind, with that question. 

The hunter gripped the stair rail and said heavily, “I don’t know how Sam ever forgave me, either. And if you stay, he could never forgive you, but that’s not the point, is it? You and me, we hurt him. This’s my fault, too. You never would’ve had the chance to do any of the things you did if I didn’t trick him, and…” 

He cleared his throat, the words catching in the middle. 

“And when I prayed for help, you didn’t have to answer. When you said you’d heal him, you could’ve been lying. But you didn’t, y-you saved him, and I’m still grateful. Even after everything.”

“I wish the fall had killed me,” Gadreel breathed as he pushed back past Dean and stomped down the stairs again. 

Sam walked into view below, frowning at the angel. Gadreel stopped dead at seeing him, one hand on the banister, shoulders tensing.

Dean took a deep breath and swallowed his tears down, the way he was so practiced at doing by now. Then he went down the steps to stand beside Gadreel. If Sam didn’t trust him again after he let the angel into the bunker, well, he had it coming. 

Sam looked from Gadreel to Dean, frown fading. He pressed his lips together nervously, then sighed. 

“You don’t have to leave. If…if you’d agree, you can stay in the dungeon until we’re sure that you’re being honest. I trust Cas and he thinks you’re on our side. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, I…I just can’t.” 

The angel sat up and nodded. 

“I will stay wherever you want me to, Sam.” Sam’s eyes narrowed a bit at the sound of his name, then he waved Gadreel after him. 

Dean wasn’t sure if they wanted him along, but he fell into step behind them. This was better than Gadreel leaving, he told himself. His arrival had just opened a bunch of old wounds — maybe this was a chance for some of them to start healing.  


* * *

  
Pouring over book after book wasn’t helping them find out why Gadreel was alive again or if he was there to hurt Jack or…anything really. 

Sam sighed and shut the book he’d been reading. He squinted. Somewhere in all the lore, he vaguely recalled reading Gadreel’s name. He hadn’t placed much importance on it since he hadn’t known at the time that the angel was standing in his home. Sam had been reading on and off all day so he couldn’t quite remember what book it had been in. Did it have a brown cover? Green? 

He started shuffling through the stacks, moving a half cup of coffee to the other stack as he searched. 

Before the cup could actually hit the books, Cas caught it and took it from Sam’s hand. 

“Angel books,” he noted, holding the cup and looking over the mess of tomes scattered around the table. Cas tilted his head, doing that little frowny squint he did when he was trying to figure something out. “You got these before you knew Gadreel was here. Why?”

“I was thinking about what you said about Heaven and how it’s going out or whatever. I was trying to find a spell to make angels or anything that might help.” Sam pulled a green book from the bottom of a stack. ‘God’s Glorious Angels’ was printed in gold across the front. Its pages were full of bits of paper Sam had used to mark interesting places. He opened it and flipped through a few markers. “But I did see his name in here somewhere.” 

He could feel Castiel’s gaze on him. Out of the corner of his eye, it looked like the angel might be a little sad.

“Thank you, Sam, for trying. I’ve only heard of God making angels, but Heaven seems to believe that Jack could do it somehow,” he murmured, stepping closer to try and look down at the pages of the book Sam held. He seemed to have forgotten about the half-full cup of cold coffee in his hand entirely. "Gadreel told me that Naomi wants Jack alive, to help make angels."

Sam carefully balanced the book over his arm as he found the right page. Then he took the cup of coffee from Cas, sipping it. It was stone cold. Sam made a face and sat it aside, leaning to show Castiel the book. 

“It says here that Gadreel is one of the five Satans. He was hated for copulating with humans… Oh.” Sam’s face warmed a bit as he realized what he was reading. He shut the book and cleared his throat. “Do you think God knows Heaven’s fading and is waking up angels?” 

Cas raised an eyebrow and looked down at the book. 

“No. I don’t think God is going to help us anymore. Death is bound to be more bothered by Heaven failing than Him. Gadreel has been imprisoned since he failed in guarding the Garden,” he added, looking up at Sam. “Perhaps there’s been some mistranslation over time.” 

“Mistranslation. Ah.” Sam unconsciously sipped the coffee and grimaced, sitting it aside once more. He needed to focus. “Look. The thing on Gadreel’s chest. It’s scarred over. Can he still cast it? Are you and Jack in danger?”

Cas sighed and picked the cup back up. 

“No, it’s a one-time use sigil because activating it requires stabbing yourself. He would never use it on us, anyway, Sam — that’s the sigil he used to kill himself. For me.”

“It’s totally safe? Are you sure? Can we…ugh. Can we put a slash through it or something to make sure? Or heal it? Can you heal it?”

Sam reached to take the cup, frowning. Cas didn’t even drink coffee.

“Sam.” The angel gave him an exasperated look, holding the cup out of his reach. “I understand why you’re being cautious, but if he was going to blow himself up, he would have tried it when Jack and I arrived home. We’ll stay away from the dungeon for now, though, if it will set your mind at ease.”

Sam stepped after him, making another grab at the coffee. 

“Your brother shows up, sorry and upset — if it was Dean, I’d have let him in too. I get it. I just want you two to be safe!”

Instead of moving the coffee, Cas just caught his hand. He stood there, mug in one hand, Sam’s hand in the other, and looked up at the hunter warmly.

“I know, Sam. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to side with him over you. I just believe that some good could come of him being here. I woke him in the Empty, somehow. He says he heard my voice.”

“He did?” Sam asked in disbelief. “He heard you? Did anyone else hear you?” He shook his head. “That Empty being must be PISSED.”

Cas, he noticed, had forgotten to let go of his hand.

“Yes, Gadreel said it was furious. He tried to go back to sleep as it demanded, and even when it attacked him and knocked him unconscious, he always awoke again.” Cas looked down at the cold coffee in the mug, frowning. “It eventually tossed him out of the Empty and back to Earth, the same as it did with me. He didn’t mention anyone else being awake, but the fact that he and I are here again is a miracle, Sam. Angels are endangered now — and he’s one more angel, alive.”

“I know,” Sam told him more gently. “I’m sorry.” He ran a hand over his face and looked over the stack of books around them. No amount of reading was going to change the past. Neither was throwing a fit and yelling at everyone. Seeing Gadreel in their home, sitting and playing cards, was too much for Sam to process right now. He needed coffee…and Cas. The angel’s calming presence was like a breath of fresh air. 

“Gadreel taking over my body really messed with my head. And Dean letting him do it. I know they were saving my life and everything — I’m just struggling to be okay with that, even NOW, years later.” He looked down at Cas, sighing. As always, Cas was patient with him and all his emotional baggage. “I know Gadreel’s just trying to help his family. I’ll try to just go forward. Okay?”

Cas squeezed his hand. 

“You don’t have to forgive him, Sam. And you aren’t under any obligation to help Heaven.” 

Sure, letting all of the souls lose their paradise and probably get stuck in the Veil like flies on sticky paper was a perfectly acceptable option because of emotional baggage… Letting angels go extinct wasn’t even the biggest concern, because Cas was going to be here and safe even if the lights went out up there, but every good human who ever died…

Castiel finally slipped his hand out of Sam’s, pulling him from his thoughts. “I’m going to give Jack this cup to wash with the others,” he said. “I’ll bring you another.” 

He started toward the kitchen. Jack had gone in there earlier, saying something about hand washing all of the dishes with extra suds. He didn’t NEED to hand wash them, but he’d seemed excited about it. Jack was fond of and appreciative of the little things ever since living for months in Apocalypse World.

With a wistful look at his books, Sam followed Cas. He hadn’t actually eaten anything all day. He’d planned on having breakfast when he got home from Humner’s place, but then Gadreel was in the bunker, so he’d just had more coffee. Maybe Dean had left some takeout in the fridge.


	4. Some Time

Gadreel hadn’t stopped fidgeting with the set of magical handcuffs since they had been placed on him. Sam had had him take off his leather jacket and left it on the table along one side of the stone room along with all the rusting torture tools. Gadreel was seated in a large wooden chair in the middle of the Bunker’s dungeon, heavily shadowed by the dim overhead light, his head hung over his hands. Other than the occasional clink of metal, the room was quiet.

Dean had told Sam he’d keep an eye on the angel not because he was worried about Gadreel doing anything, but because then he wouldn’t have to talk to Sam for awhile. That, and he felt strangely guilty about talking Gadreel into staying. Yes, Sam needed this. Clearly four years hadn’t made the past hurt any less for either of them. But Gadreel had spent thousands of years in Heaven’s jail, then he’d DIED in jail, and now here he was, in a cell again.

“Listen… I’m sorry,” Dean told him, breaking what felt like hours of silence punctuated by clinking chains.

“There is no need to apologize,” the angel replied quietly, tracing a link of the chains with his fingers. He kept his head down. “This is far closer to what I expected when I arrived this morning.” 

Dean shifted to sit leaning back against the wall, studying him. That was a pretty defeated slope of the shoulders if he ever saw one.

“So why’d you come here if you expected this? I mean, you could’ve just walked away,” he pointed out. 

Sam had left a long time ago. Did he feel betrayed Dean had stayed behind here? What exactly did he plan to do with Gadreel now that they had him prisoner? It was probably better not to think about it. Cas, at least, didn’t seem to hold any grudges against the other angel. Then again, Cas never seemed to hold grudges against the people who hurt him, so maybe he just forgave too easily.

The angel lifted his chin ever so slightly for a moment, then he shook his head. 

“I…have no one. Not on Earth and not in Heaven.” Gadreel finally lifted his head and looked Dean’s way. He looked truly exhausted. Red rimmed his eyes, and his mouth was caught in a grim line. “I came here to find the Nephilim and bring him back to Naomi. Then I’d have a home, I had thought. A family again.” 

Gadreel rubbed at his eyes, awkwardly shifting to be able to reach them since his handcuffs were attached to the floor. 

“When Castiel embraced me, I knew that I preferred to be here, no matter what you did to me.” Gadreel hung his head again as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Not one angel in Heaven cared that I was alive again. They were only concerned with how to USE me.” 

Dean nodded a little, even though the angel wasn’t looking at him right now.

“Yeah, most angels are just dicks with wings,” he said frankly. “And Metatron was one of the biggest dicks of ‘em all, and HE was using you, too.” He paused, looking up at Gadreel again curiously. “Naomi didn’t bother to explain what happened with him, did she?”

“She said that it was not part of my new mission.” Again, Gadreel shook his head a little. He tugged on the chains suddenly, sitting up in his chair. “May I ask you for a favor, Dean?” 

Dean sat up, too, blinking. 

“Can’t promise I’ll do it, but ask whatever you want.”

The angel’s eyebrows pinched and he sank lower in his seat. 

“…Do you have an angel blade?”

“We’ve got everything,” Dean replied evenly, getting to his feet. He glanced at the door, then back to the angel, crossing his arms. Nothing about Gadreel’s demeanor suggested he was out to attack anybody. “If you’re about to ask me to put you out of your misery, though, don’t go there.”

The angel’s sad eyes flicked his way, betraying some thoughts along those lines, but his expression slipped to being carefully neutral. 

“I lost mine. I wish only to be useful and protect the Nephilim. Heaven will not allow you to keep him without a fight. Let me protect this place.” He turned his head to look up at Dean from under his brows. “Give me purpose.”

Dean gave him a knowing look in return. 

“Maybe try that request again when you’re not shackled in the dungeon.” He sighed, stepping closer to the angel’s chair. “If you want to help us, tell me how exactly Jack’s supposed to make more angels. Did Naomi mention what they want to do with him?”

“No. She only told me that he was with Castiel and that I was to retrieve him at any cost.” The angel tugged on the chains again, lips curling with frustration. 

“Dean?” Sam called in from the door. 

Dean took the last few steps to Gadreel’s side and patted his shoulder. Without any more comment, he turned and headed to the door to face Sam. 

“Hey,” he said quietly.

His little brother offered him a plate with a sandwich and potato chips on it. Sam glanced at the angel and sighed. 

“I can watch him for awhile if you want to go eat.” 

Dean looked at the food, realizing it had been hours since breakfast. He didn’t feel particularly hungry, though — in fact, talking to Sam was bringing back the tidal wave of guilt that had hit him earlier all over again, and he felt a little sick to his stomach.

“No, it’s fine. I know you don’t even want to look at him,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder. He made no move to take the plate.

“Dean,” Sam sighed, shoving it at him and rolling his eyes. “How would you feel if you walked into the bunker and found, say, Lucifer playing poker with Jack, Cas and me? Not…not that Gadreel’s as bad as Satan, but it was kind of surprising. To put it lightly.” Sam walked past him, slowing his pace as he approached Gadreel. He crossed his arms as the angel looked up at him calmly. 

Dean turned to look after him, the plate in one hand since Sam hadn’t given him much choice but to take it. He would’ve trusted Sam enough to ask what was going on, he wanted to say, but there was enough bitterness here already. 

“The cards were Jack’s idea,” he said instead, sighing.

Sam didn’t seem to hear him. He and the chained angel were caught in a staring contest. Then Sam turned sharply back to Dean, brushing quickly past him and making a beeline back out the door. 

“Just let me know if you want to get some sleep,” Sam told him in passing. The door shut before Dean could reply. 

“Sam—” Dean stared at the closed door, the slam still echoing in the room. He frowned and pulled the door open, stepping outside and slamming it loudly behind him. “Sammy, wait.” He looked up and down the hallway for any sign of his brother.

Sam spun on his heel, already halfway up the steps toward the main floor. He had that look — that sad puppy look — as he looked back at Dean.

Dean hurried over to the foot of the stairs, carrying the forgotten plate in one hand. 

“There’s some things about Gadreel that I never told you,” he told Sam, looking up at him. He practically winced at the sadness in his brother’s eyes, but stared at him anyway. “I-I have to tell you, before you interrogate him or…or whatever you plan to do.” 

“I’m not going to interrogate him — you’re right, Dean. I can’t even l-look at him.” Sam came back closer, rubbing the side of his neck with a hand. He huffed out a sigh and dropped his arms to his sides. “What about him?” 

Dean looked down and finally noticed the plate he was still holding. He turned and sat it on the floor before facing Sam.

“He didn’t just save your life,” he said. “While he was in you, he brought some people back from the dead. Cas, for one.” 

Sam frowned at him curiously, but shook his head. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sam sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Good god. Every time I think you’re not hiding stuff from me, you have something up your sleeve!”

“Look, this stuff hasn’t exactly been a fun topic to bring up in casual conversation, okay?” Dean had to admit, the comment stung. He’d hated every minute of hiding Gadreel from Sam. “I lied to cover it up so he wouldn’t leave you before you got healed up enough, so…even Cas doesn’t know.”

He sighed slowly. Gadreel had made him keep Cas away from the bunker after that, sending him away right after he’d struggled and died to reach them. It wasn’t Gadreel’s fault Cas’s time as a human after that was so miserable, though, it was Dean’s. If he’d thought about it for a minute before panicking over Sam’s life and putting the poor ex-angel on a bus, he could’ve set Cas up with an extended motel stay, a distant hunter pal, something.

“He brought Charlie back, too,” he continued, before he could sink into yet another wave of regrets. “She would’ve been dead before ever seeing Oz if not for him. The witch got her — he barely had enough mojo to bring her back, but he did it.”

The taller Winchester’s expression softened suddenly at Charlie’s name. He looked back at the door behind Dean for a moment, then relaxed his stance. 

“I understand why you want to trust him. Half of us owe him our lives.” It felt like there was another part to that sentence, but Sam skipped it as he continued on. “Just give me some time. I know it’s been four years. I just…I never took the time to deal with everything that’s floating to the surface now. There was so much happening and then things got worse. I need some time,” he repeated as he shifted on his feet under Dean’s gaze. 

“Me, too, Sammy.” Dean swallowed and glanced back down the hallway at the dungeon door. “I went off the rails with the Mark right after that, then got myself killed, then there was the demon thing…” He forced out a humorless little laugh, running a hand through his hair and looking back to his brother. “I’m a pain in your ass, I’m sorry.”

That puppy dog look came back to Sam’s face suddenly. Stepping closer, he gave Dean a loose one-armed hug, patting his back. When he sat back he was wearing a sad smile. 

“Yeah you are,” he said, almost fondly.

Dean nodded, looking down at the plate a few feet away on the floor.

“He doesn’t know exactly how Heaven plans to use Jack,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. “I’m not sure they even know yet.”

“Well,” Sam said in exasperation, “I feel like if Cas has no clue, Heaven’s probably on the same page. But…” His eyes narrowed, and he nodded. “I think I found a spell. I need to double check some stuff before we try it out, though.” He gestured to the door. “Are you gonna be okay down here? Seriously, we can swap around. Maybe not me. Cas could keep watch.”

“No, not Cas,” Dean said quickly, sighing and picking up the plate of food. “I know it’s a long shot, but Gadreel’s still got that suicide sigil on his chest, and…I don’t think he’d try to hurt Cas, but he’s acting like maybe he’d hurt himself if he got the chance. I think you should talk to him, but you said you need time, so…we should get that thing off of him first thing.”

Sam’s nose wrinkled. 

“Uh. Okay. Can I just—” he pointed back up the stairs. “Can I get my computer? I don’t want to just sit and stare at him. Oh, maybe a book or two? My book light’s in my room…ah man. I wanted Jack to…” Sammy mumbled to himself, fidgeting like a nerd on prom night. He finally held up his hands. “Okay. Gimme five minutes?”

“It’s been hours, Sammy,” Dean said. “Take five, take a few hours — I’ll be here when you get back.” He turned and started back toward the dungeon door.


	5. Miracles

Dean could make out the sound of clinking chains as he stepped back into the dungeon. One glance in Gadreel’s direction, though, revealed that the angel was on his feet, eyes locked on Dean while he clicked one of the handcuffs free from his wrist. 

Slowly, Dean sat the plate on the floor, holding up his hands in a placating way.

“Hey, what’re you doing? Gonna take off on us?”

Something about the way the angel stood up with his shoulders still hunched over told Dean that he wasn’t dangerous. One of the handcuffs remained in place, forcing Gadreel to lean over the chair as he circled it to place it between him and Dean. He watched Dean through tired eyes as his jaw tightened. 

“…No.” 

Dean lowered his hands, moving over to stand on the other side of the chair.

“Listen, I know it’s tough to believe after last time, but we’re not gonna hurt you.” 

He looked down at the handcuffs guiltily, remembering the interrogation that ended in beating Gadreel unconscious. He’d been trying to provoke Dean into killing him at the time, and the Mark of Cain had damned near granted his wish, but Dean could still restrain himself at that point. Not so much when he slashed Gadreel with the First Blade — Sam and Cas had had to haul him away and lock him into this same dungeon until he cooled down.

He wasn’t just a pain in Sam’s ass, he thought bitterly. 

“Cells aren’t exactly your favorite place,” he added to the angel, “I get it. But Sam’s coming back to talk to you, and if you really wanna stay here with Cas and the rest of us, you need to try and talk it out with him. Okay?”

Taking a breath, Gadreel stepped back around the chair. He looked at Dean critically and again the soft scent of whiskey wafted off of his person. He held out his shackled arm. 

“I cannot stand these chains. Please.” 

Dean looked at him, opened his mouth to reply, and shut it again. Gadreel was already in a very secure, warded dungeon, and he’d gone in here willingly. On one hand, Sam wasn’t going to like it if he heard the angel unshackled himself. On the other hand, Dean wasn’t the fondest of shackles or handcuffs, either. Especially not after his 40 years in Hell.

“Okay,” he said. “Have a seat, let me get the keys.” He headed over to the table of implements and Gadreel’s jacket. The fact that the keys were still over there proved that Sam still trusted Dean. And here he was about to break that trust a little more, most likely.

Gadreel didn’t sit down. He waited patiently for Dean to come back, eyes on the key in his hand.

Dean didn’t hand it over, though — when he reached the angel again, he took the hand he was still holding out and pulled it closer, clicking the key into the shackle’s lock and turning it himself.

“I’m trusting you not to do anything crazy,” he told Gadreel, squeezing his hand and looking him in the eye. The shackle clanked loudly as it hit the floor. 

The angel’s blue eyes scanned Dean’s face slowly, a glint of fear in them. Then he nodded. 

“May I have my jacket?” 

Dean lowered his hand, but kept hold of it. 

“Honestly, man, you look more intimidating in it. Sam’s having a hard time even looking at you right now — I vote for leaving it off,” he said. “I promise you’ll get it back, not a scratch on it. Okay?”

“Sam is on his way here now?” Gadreel asked, leaning to pick up both handcuffs with one hand. He turned them over slowly and frowned.

As much as he wanted to trust the guy, Dean couldn’t deny the alarm bells going off in his head that said it would be easy for Gadreel to slap the cuffs on him and walk out the door. He let go of the angel’s hand and took the shackles from him, nodding.

“Yeah, he’ll be here any minute with his computer. He’s working on the same problem Heaven is, angels as an endangered species and all. I told him you might be able to help if he talked to you.” 

Dropping his eyes to the floor, Gadreel slowly stuck his wrists back out to Dean. 

“Perhaps we should wait to remove the shackles, then.”  


* * *

  
“You’re going to talk to Gadreel, aren’t you?” Jack had noticed Sam heading out into the hallway with his laptop and a stack of books and started following him like a duckling. He smelled vaguely like dish soap still, and looked so bright-eyed that it was tough not to share his enthusiasm at least a little. 

“Um, yeah. Dean needs a break.” Sam hurried his pace in the hopes of leaving Jack behind. There was no way that he wanted the teenager to listen in on what felt like it was going to be a horrible conversation. 

Cas and Dean were right. They were here now, all with blood on their hands. They needed to bury their past with Gadreel and find a way to restore Heaven. Not because of the damned angels but because of the innocent people that would have no place to rest in peace. 

Jack bobbed his head eagerly, though, walking even faster to match pace with Sam. They were practically jogging down the hallway.

“Could I come with you? I know that Heaven’s plans involve me, and since they do I want to know about them.” It was a remarkably mature request, considering that Jack was just over a year old. Dean had said Gadreel didn’t actually know Heaven’s plans, though, and Jack didn’t need to hear all of their baggage being unpacked.

Sam decided to respond honestly. Jack was a smart kid. Maybe if he got the idea it was more of a stakeout, he’d lose interest. 

“Look, I don’t plan on TALKING to him. I’m just watching him while Dean takes a break. The most I’m going to be doing down there is looking at the symbols on his chest to see if they can be activated and reading up on making angel babies.” 

Unfortunately, Jack was doing the little squint and head tilt routine that Cas always did when trying to figure something out. 

“Can angels have babies?” He asked thoughtfully. “I mean, ones that aren’t Nephilim like me?”

They turned a corner. The dungeon was getting close.

With a sigh, Sam adjusted his armload of books and started down the stairs. 

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Gadreel might actually know something about it. According to old lore, he got in trouble for, um, getting intimate with some humans. I don’t think it’s true. He always thought the angels made other stuff up about him, so maybe they made this up too. But I have to ask.” They reached the bottom of the steps and he turned to Jack. “If you want to come with me, you need to keep some distance. Alright? Just like ten, maybe fifteen feet. You know, why don’t you just stand at the door?” 

“Okay,” Jack said very seriously, nodding.

Sam gave him a quirked eyebrow, but headed into the dungeon room anyway. To his relief, he found Gadreel shackled and seated in the center of the room, his head hung low. The angel glanced up at him silently then to Jack. 

Dean sat up at the sound of the door, eyes moving over them at the same time as the angel’s. He was sitting up against the wall near the door.

“You restrained him?” Jack looked at the cuffs with a small frown. “Why?”

“It’s just until we know if we can trust him,” Sam told him as he ducked past Dean to the table full of torture tools where Gadreel’s jacket lay. He balanced the books and laptop as he raked the implements aside to make space for them. Sighing as his arms were finally free, he turned to his brother and looked for the plate he had given him earlier. 

It was sitting on the floor near the door, utterly untouched. 

“I guess…I should let you guys talk,” Dean said reluctantly, exchanging a glance with Gadreel. He started toward the door. Jack took a step inside to clear the doorway for him.

“Take your sandwich,” Sam called after him. He really wanted to add ‘and Jack,’ but the Nephilim looked determined to stay. 

Dean stooped and picked up the plate, retreating out the door without another word. It seemed to bother him to let Gadreel out of his sight. Behind the sound of the door slamming, Sam heard the soft shuffle of feathers.

“Are these the symbols you were talking about, Sam?” Jack asked, from over by Gadreel.

Sam hurried over to join them, grabbing Jack by the arm and hauling him away from the angel. 

“What did I say earlier?” He hissed to the teenager. Sam shook his head and leaned to look down the collar of Gadreel’s shirt. The angel glanced up at him like he had grown a third eye and Sam stepped back. Right. That was probably a little weird. He waved Jack in the direction of the torture table. “Just stay over there.”

Jack leaned to look, too, though. 

"They're just scars," he realized aloud, stepping right back over to pull Gadreel's shirt down out of the way. Frowning, he stuck his palm in the middle of the choppy sigils, eyes flaring yellow.

The momentary flash of fear in Gadreel’s eyes made Sam think the Nephilim might be hurting him, but the symbols carved sloppily into his chest faded significantly. Thin pale scars remained despite the powerful pulse from the yellow glow around Jack’s hand. Sam hovered at the young man’s back impatiently. As soon as the glow faded, he took Jack by the shoulders and pulled him to the table along the wall. 

“Go back upstairs to your room.”

Jack looked a tiny bit dizzy, and Sam moving him had definitely disoriented him. He grabbed onto one of the hunter’s arms, blinking a few times. 

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to fix his scars, but I-I think I…” He looked up at Sam, then over to Gadreel worriedly, trailing off.

Sam jumped back, dragging Jack, as he looked Gadreel’s way. The angel’s eyes were smoldering bright blue as the shadowy silhouettes of wings stretched out from his back. They were thick and feathered — unburned. 

Gadreel’s eyes faded to normal and he looked wide-eyed up at Jack, his mouth hanging open a bit. He blinked slowly, then leaned forward in the wooden chair as his wings shifted from shadows to fully formed things. They were massive and coated in soft-looking gray feathers. 

Sam gawked. Could Cas do THAT? 

Gadreel first stared at his wings then at Jack once more. 

“A miracle. You can perform miracles,” Gadreel murmured, huddling his wings up behind his back. They faded suddenly back to shadow, then to nothing as he sat up straighter to face Jack. He lowered his head sharply, blue eyes growing misty. “Thank you.” 

Jack had been staring just as much as the angel until Gadreel’s wings faded out of sight again. The kid smiled brightly at the thank you, though, turning to look up at Sam.

“Maybe I could heal Castiel too! I tried before, but it never worked,” he said, excited. Before Sam could reply, the Nephilim stepped past him to pat Gadreel’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I couldn’t heal the sigil marks all the way — they must be scars on your grace.” 

Gadreel gave Jack a tiny bow of his head. 

“Perhaps they are, but I have my wings again.” Gadreel’s eyes squinted as he smiled up at the Nephilim. “You are not evil,” he told Jack. The way he said it made it sound like he felt silly for ever believing it. 

The same way Sam felt after he’d gotten to know Jack a bit. The kid was good, through and through. He was just learning how the world worked. 

Sam moved closer as Gadreel tried to put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. The chain on his wrist prevented it. Sam carefully guided Jack back a bit with a hand on his shoulder. 

He had so many questions! Could Cas show his wings like that? Could he do it NOW? What color were Castiel’s wings? The soft gray feathers were a surprising color for Gadreel. Sam had expected black or maybe dark brown. Something ominous. 

He gave Jack a big smile. 

“That was amazing.” 

The Nephilim was still smiling, but it was a more apologetic one now.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t stay by the door, though, Sam.” He turned to Gadreel. “I can do a lot of things, but I’ve never made people appear. I don’t know how to make angels,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I can, even if Heaven wants me to.”

“You may be powerful, but you are too young to make other angels. I…think.” Gadreel pulled lightly on the handcuffs as he shifted in his seat to face Sam. “With your permission, Sam, I would like to remove these handcuffs. I have no intention of leaving this place. I will remain seated.” 

Sam was already shaking his head before he said anything.

“You can fly now.” 

“Yes?” The angel said, frowning. “I will not leave. You have my word.”


	6. Better

Crossing his arms, Sam sighed. They had gotten off task with Jack healing up Gadreel’s wings. The problem with Heaven’s lights going out remained. If Gadreel actually HAD slept with a bunch of humans and made Nephilim, it’d be stupid to let him go right when they might need him. 

Then again, the goal was to make regular old angels, not Nephilim. Those were supposedly evil by default. They had gotten lucky that Jack was such an amazing person. 

Looking at the kid, Sam shook his head again. 

“Not yet. Please. We’ll take them off tomorrow.” 

“Very well,” Gadreel said quietly. He sat back in his seat again without protest. Sam wasn’t sure if his easy acceptance was a good or a bad thing, but he had asked for permission.

Jack looked sad for the angel. He didn’t seem to find Gadreel intimidating in the least. After facing off with Michael in Apocalypse World, a regular angel probably didn’t seem that scary to him.

“Sam’s books say you got intimate with humans. Is that true? Do you have any children?”

Completely caught off guard by the question, Gadreel stared up at Jack. He looked both offended and intrigued. His expression then grew distant, and he nodded. 

“A long time ago. They were deemed evil and…destroyed. As are all Nephilim.” 

As stealthily as he could, Sam ducked out of the conversation and hurried to get his laptop open. He hadn’t considered that Jack might be a good catalyst for bringing up Gadreel’s supposed interspecies relationships. 

Interspecies? Sam pondered the word as he typed it into his computer. 

“I’m sorry,” Jack said from behind him. He sounded like he meant it. “My father…was Lucifer, so everyone believed I was evil at first, too. The day I was born, angels tried to kill me.” A pause, and then the kid added quietly, “I thought maybe I was evil, too. I didn’t know how to control my powers at all, and I…hurt some people.” 

He sighed.

The clink of chains made Sam peek over his laptop screen. Gadreel was reaching a hand out towards Jack with a very somber expression on his face. 

“A child cannot be blamed for causing pain. They do not know any better. You’re new to this world, little one. Your father is Castiel now. He is wise. Wiser than myself, to be sure. He has caused great pain and brought hope where there was none, and learned from both experiences. Heed his words and you are sure to do good in God’s world.” 

Sam frowned. It was the same thing that Dean had been saying earlier. All of them had blood on their hands. They could have easily become evil and abused their abilities, but somehow they didn’t. They always found their way back to helping other people. 

Just like Jack had in the Apocalypse World. Sam smiled a bit at the thought. How Lucifer had managed to spawn a kid that was so damn wonderful was beyond him. 

Jack stepped close enough to Gadreel to reach out and clasp his hand.

“I was Castiel, for a little while,” he said, nodding. “So I remember that you hurt people, too, but you also tried to be good. You…” He frowned thoughtfully down at their hands. “You’re a lot like me. I don’t think it matters that you aren’t a child.”

Gadreel looked truly touched at Jack taking his hand, and his grim expression shifted to a humorless smile. 

“We are alike, aren’t we?” The angel looked Sam’s way pointedly. Sam shifted under his gaze, dropping his eyes back to his computer screen. 

They were bonding a little too fast. Sam shut his laptop and sat it aside on the table of torture tools, then came over to stand next to Jack. 

“Jack, can you give us some time to talk? Like half an hour?” 

Jack looked at Gadreel for a moment more before glancing over at Sam. Reluctantly, he let go of the angel’s hand. 

“I can. You won’t hurt him, will you?” He’d gotten attached to Gadreel that fast, it seemed.

“We’re just going to talk. I promise,” Sam told him as he guided Jack in the direction of the door. “The sooner we sit and talk, the sooner he can get out of those handcuffs.” 

Maybe, Sam thought with a mental cringe. If Gadreel turned out to be plotting to steal Jack, he might be in the dungeon for a lot longer. In the meantime, Sam just didn’t want Jack around to hear what might be a graphic story of Gadreel’s sex life. Sam needed details if he was going to try and make a spell. 

The sadness in Gadreel’s voice when he talked about his now-dead Nephilim children was making Sam’s stomach hurt. He really didn’t want to dig up how the angels murdered Gadreel’s kids if they were going to be helping said angels…

Jack looked back at Gadreel and nodded, seeming hopeful at that last comment. 

“Okay, Sam.” He smiled and slipped from Sam’s hands in a rustle of unseen feathers, thin air whirling to fill the suddenly-empty space.

Bracing himself, Sam went to get his laptop. He pulled the chair Dean had been sitting in over in front of Gadreel’s then took a seat. He opened his laptop, looked Gadreel in the eye, and sat back in his chair. 

“Let’s start with the basics.”  


* * *

  
“Dean.” 

The voice in Dean’s ear was nice. Deep and strong, even while whispering. A hand pressed lightly on his jaw, lifting his chin. 

“Dean?” 

To the hunter’s half-asleep mind, it made perfect sense that he was both curled up in a chair in the library AND waking up beside someone who was touching his face all tender-like. This wasn’t even close to the weirdest thing that he’d ever awakened to.

“Mm?” He asked sleepily, blinking up at the owner of the voice. 

Gadreel looked back at him, blue eyes caught under frowning brows. 

“Dean. You should not sleep on chairs.” The angel let go of his face and took a step back, gesturing to the chair Dean was still perched on. “Many men awaken to have neck injuries.” 

The comment was really strange and not what Dean expected. What had he eaten before he fell asleep? Whatever it was, it was making for some weird dreams.

Sitting up slowly, Dean blinked at the angel. Yeah, this had to be a dream — Gadreel was still running around in the blue tee without his jacket, exactly how he’d been dressed in the dungeon. The dungeon where he REALLY was right now, with Sam and Jack.

“I’ve slept in places a lot worse than a chair,” he told the angel, running a hand through his hair. “Ever try sleeping in Purgatory? Tree roots everywhere.” Why the hell did he say that? It was just a dumb dream, though, and talking to Gadreel without guilt and death involved was strangely nice. Dean smiled at him. “What’d you wake me up for, anyway?”

The angel cocked his head and almost did the Castiel squint at Dean’s question. 

“I woke you up so that you would not hurt your neck. Is it sore?” He asked as he stepped closer again, a hand carefully touching Dean’s neck. 

Dean looked up at him, smile fading. The hand on his neck felt surprisingly gentle. It was nice.

Why was he dreaming this? Did he have a thing for Gadreel? That was so messed up, considering how much they’d both put Sam through together. Hell, what Dean had put Gadreel through, even. The Mark had almost led Dean to killing him more than once. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he told Gadreel guiltily. “Just…you’re locked up again because of me, why do you care if my neck hurts?” It DID kind of hurt, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“Do not be alarmed,” the angel told him softly. A glow of light burned brightly under Gadreel’s hand and the stiffness in Dean’s neck vanished. “Is that better?” Gadreel asked, his eyes on Dean’s.

The hunter sighed and placed a hand over Gadreel’s on his neck, lowering his gaze to the floor. He couldn’t help a small smile. 

“Yeah…thanks, Gadreel.” Had he ever talked using the angel’s real name? Before things really got out of control, Dean had been thinking he was Ezekial and calling him Zeke. Years later, it was still tough to forget that feeling of never being alone with Sam, even when he was. 

“How about you?” He asked, standing from the chair to look Gadreel in the eye. “You okay?”

“Hey!” Sam snapped from somewhere off to their left. Gadreel stood up straighter, backing away from Dean with his hands up. 

“I was healing him. Nothing more.” 

Sam stepped into view, a sloshing cup of coffee in one hand and a laptop under the other arm. He glared at the spilled coffee then at the angel. 

“No healing — no magic.” 

“I understand. My apologies,” Gadreel told him quickly, putting more distance between himself and Dean. He padded quietly out of the library corner and joined Castiel at the table, taking one last look in Dean’s direction. 

Dean stared after him, blinking and rubbing the back of his neck where the angel’s hand had rested. It did feel better, but he sure as hell felt worse. This wasn’t a dream, and that meant his reaction to Gadreel had been…well, his actual reaction to Gadreel.

Troubled by those thoughts, Dean turned and picked up the empty plate beside his chair. He’d made himself eat the sandwich and chips just to make Sam happy, even though he had no appetite at the moment, and he must’ve drifted off in the chair after that. 

Stepping over to Sam, he did his best not to look as bothered as he felt.

“So he’s not in the dungeon anymore. What else did I miss?”

Still glaring, Sam took a long sip of coffee, then huffed out a sigh. 

“I was the only one who wanted him there. Oh and by the way, Jack healed his wings. Watch out.” With that, his brother headed back across the room, sitting down across from Cas. He flipped the laptop open. “Okay. Which, in theory, would be more dangerous — turning a human baby into an angel or turning a Nephilim fully human?” 

Dean stepped closer, holding the stupid plate in front of him like a shield. Sam wasn’t okay with this arrangement, so why had he let Gadreel out of the dungeon? Also, holy shit, if Jack could heal wings did that mean he’d healed Cas’s too?

Clearly Dean had missed plenty, but Sam didn’t seem to be in any mood to explain.

“Tampering with human babies would be more dangerous,” he heard Cas say as he shuffled into the kitchen with the excuse of putting the plate away. “In theory, a Nephilim without its grace would become a human baby. The process is very painful, though.”

“Okay. That makes sense. Humans also have souls and angels don’t. Can Jack, I don’t know, WILL angels into existence?” Dean heard his little brother ask. 

Footsteps followed after Dean, pausing near the kitchen door.

“He doesn’t think he can,” Cas replied. Concerned, he added, “Healing Gadreel’s and my wings took a great deal of his energy, too — willing an angel’s grace into being may take too much power.”

Dean sat the plate on the counter and stood there looking at it, unsure what to do after that. They didn’t need him out there in their research session. From the sound of it, Jack really had healed Cas’s wings. Way to go, kid, he thought.

“Dean?” That same, deep voice that Dean had heard when he woke up from his dreams asked from behind him. Gadreel stepped up to the counter with him and rested a hand on it.


	7. Good Company

That now familiar light scent of whiskey came with Gadreel as he stood in front of Dean.

Dean sighed, looking at him. Right now all he wanted to do was to be unconscious again, but that wasn’t an option. Why did he find Gadreel attractive? It was like his brain had to come up with new ways to damage Sam’s trust — what was wrong with him?

“Glad you’re out of the cuffs,” he told the angel quietly. “And, uh, congrats on the fixed up wings.” He wrapped his arms around himself, nodding a little and looking distantly at the coffee maker. 

“Thank you,” Gadreel said dismissively. “Dean. When I woke you, you seemed…lost. What were you dreaming of?” He leaned up against the counter, muscular arms exposed in his V-neck tee. There was no denying his vessel’s body was attractive.

‘Lost’, huh. Dean smiled at him grimly.

“Thought I was dreaming of you. I should’ve known better — I don’t have good dreams anymore.” It was true enough — when he did remember his dreams, they were usually nightmares. You couldn’t live and die fighting monsters and not come out with some subconscious damage, apparently.

The angel’s lips curved almost into a smile as he looked at Dean with surprising warmth. 

“…I’m a good dream?”

Dean studied his blue eyes, wondering what the creature behind them really looked like. Angels weren’t even human-shaped — it was easy to forget, with how much time he’d spent around Cas in Jimmy Novak’s form. Gadreel, though…Dean had hardly met him in this body before he’d taken over Sam, got to know Dean while looking and sounding like Sam. He’d switched back to this vessel later, but it just caused a weird mental disconnect between “Ezekial” healing Sam, saving Charlie, and Gadreel, working for Metatron, dying for Castiel. 

It was all Gadreel, though.

“Guess you are now,” he said finally, wearily. “I won’t lie, you’ve been the other kind before.”

The angel stood away from the counter suddenly, moving close to Dean, eyes locked on him. 

“I can sense longing,” he whispered. His eyes scanned over Dean’s face curiously, lingering a moment longer on the other man’s lips. “Do you find my vessel attractive?” He asked, tipping his head a bit. 

Dean frowned, at him but also at the way his heart was thumping in his chest. He felt like a traitor, that he couldn’t really deny it.

“If you can feel it, then you already know,” he replied, lowering his voice in case Cas or Sam overheard from the other room. “Is…there isn’t a human soul still onboard in there with you, is there?” That wasn’t how it worked with Cas — dying sent Jimmy to Heaven, and left the body as Cas’s own.

“No. Lucas has gone to Heaven,” Gadreel told him, genuine sadness in his voice. “Another soul that needs our aid in keeping Heaven’s glow. I…I have taken his job at the bar though. I knew that he would not mind. I needed money for the bus to get here.” 

Dean nodded a little, glancing at the kitchen door. He hadn’t thought of it like that. Cas probably wanted to help Jimmy and Amelia Novak stay happily in Heaven, too. 

“Does he have any family? Cas’s, uh, vessel, Jimmy, his family thought he was a missing person for years,” he said. Considering that Gadreel and Lucas had died together four years ago, any family the man still had probably were in the same boat. The bar must have really liked Lucas to hire him back just like that after years.

“His parents had passed on long ago and his only sister considered him dead to her. We were kindred spirits.” The angel relaxed against the counter again, staring at the door to the main room with a frown. He looked at Dean again. “He was good company.” 

Slowly, Dean made his way over and leaned on the counter beside him. 

“Sounds like it. Probably was nice to have somebody to talk to, with everything going on.” After so long in prison, Gadreel had to have been lonely, right? 

Dean himself had wished desperately for somebody he could talk to during the whole ordeal with “Ezekial” possessing Sam. He never felt more alone than when he couldn’t confide in either Sam or Cas. No wonder the Mark had latched onto all of the darkness and thrived, at that rate… 

He swallowed hard and focused on the floor.

After a moment, Gadreel hesitantly put a hand on Dean’s back. 

“You’re good company. Much more than when you had the Mark of Cain on you.” The hand on Dean’s back vanished as Gadreel reached to take his arm and turn it. The same arm where the Mark had been. Just like when they spoke on the stairs, he placed his fingers over the spot where the Mark had been. Gadreel’s eyebrows furrowed slowly as he looked back up at Dean. 

“I died not long after you,” Dean told him, looking down at the hand on his arm. He didn’t bother pretending that it bothered him. Gadreel could feel longing, so he knew better anyway. “Metatron killed me, in fact. And the Mark didn’t even come off then. Cain said it’d never come off. Here I thought it would eat me alive, and it was worse than that — it wouldn’t let me die.” 

He looked at the angel’s chest, faint lines of scars peeking out of the V-neck tee, and sighed. It was surprising that there wasn’t a slash mark among them from the First Blade.

“Sam told me about some of the things that happened while I was in the Empty. I found it hard to believe. I cannot imagine you as a demon…” The angel trailed off, his eyes drifting to Dean’s mouth. After a split second, he let go of Dean and backed away, looking suddenly uneasy. “We should return to the task at hand.” 

Dean snorted, shaking his head. 

“Demon me was a real asshole, I’m glad you never met him,” he said dryly, sitting up and crossing his arms. “And how exactly do we help out there? Sam obviously doesn’t really want you to do anything, and I’m not smart enough to try and match God at angel-making.” 

Gadreel crossed his arms over his chest and gave Dean a long hard look. 

“Nephilim may not be the answer we seek. I have never gotten to know any Nephilim before they were destroyed. Perhaps they are merely children, or perhaps Jack is unique and other any Nephilim we create will be evil. We are placing Heaven’s fate in their hands. We must be sure that they are worthy.” 

“Jack’s an archangel’s Nephilim — the son of Satan,” Dean pointed out, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah, he’s what you’d call a special case. I bet Heaven never let Nephilim live long enough for two to grow up and have kids, or we’d know if they could have a full angel baby that way. That’s too slow anyway, though.” 

He grabbed a coffee mug from the dishwasher and turned to pour a cup from the coffee maker.

“Too bad we don’t have a way to make more angels from the angels we already have.”

“If Jack can heal burnt wings, he may be able to will angels to life. The toll it would take on him, though…” Gadreel shook his head. “Again, we must be sure. He is only a child. Such focus may take him centuries to master, and we are in need now. Saying that it is indeed possible for him to do such a thing.” Gadreel’s eyes glowed gently for a moment. Then he tilted his head. “Archangels are not the only ones to create Nephilim.” 

Dean froze at the eye glowing, holding his coffee mug in both hands and watching the angel carefully. When Gadreel started to speak again, the hunter relaxed, taking a sip from his cup. 

“Oh, I know. Cas says a Nephilim’s heart was one of the ingredients in Metatron’s spell to make all the angels fall out of Heaven,” he said. “But a Nephilim’s supposed to be more powerful than its angel parent, right? That makes Jack more powerful than Lucifer.” Sighing, he added, “But you’re right, Jack’s a kid. If he gets hurt to fix things, we’re no better than the dicks in Heaven about how we’re doing this.”

As Gadreel’s eyes faded back to their normal color, he agreed with a nod. 

“I will help in whatever way I can, but Sam does not trust me. If need be I can stay somewhere else. I do not need to be in the bunker.” 

“The only way he’s gonna get to know you — the real you, not the one taking orders from Metatron — is to be here and try to help,” Dean said. “And look, your wings are fixed and you haven’t flown off on us, so that’s a good start, right?”

He took a step toward the kitchen door, but something made him pause and turn back to Gadreel. 

“I’m glad I don’t have to fight you again,” he admitted quietly. 

Stepping up to stand shoulder to shoulder, Gadreel lowered his voice to match Dean’s. 

“As am I.”  


* * *

  
"Nephilim are not an option," Cas sighed as he and Sam stepped down the hallway. "We want to make angels. I'm not sure that even Jack can make angels or any person out of nothing." That seemed like something Chuck was exclusively good at.

Cas hadn’t talked to Jack since his wings had been healed — the kid had passed out doing it. Cas had tucked him into bed, and he and Sam were on their way now to check on him. 

Sam’s eyes kept flicking to Castiel’s back as he imagined what the angel’s wings might look like. White was the most likely color. Cas seemed like he’d have classical angel wings. 

“If he’s willing to try, we’ve got nothing to lose, but I was thinking maybe we can take a bit of grace and have him use that as a base. Like…like when a bit of Gadreel’s grace was still inside of me. Do you think something like that would be easier?” 

It was a stretch and Sam knew it. He was tired. All the emotions Gadreel’s presence was kicking up had worn him out. Jack wasn’t the only one who needed a nap. 

Cas paused outside Jack’s door, turning to look up at Sam. He tilted his head, doing that cute squinting ‘processing, please wait’ face. 

“That…might actually work.”


	8. Bright Ideas

“Without vessels, angels are wavelengths of celestial energy,” Castiel said. “If we had some way to contain them, we could create them without vessels at first. They’ll likely have no memories, though, this way — they wouldn’t know how to ask a vessel for permission to possess it.”

“Really? Wow.” Sam stared down at him. He rubbed his neck, going back over the idea. It’d be more like angel cloning than anything. Would the new angels be anything like their originals? Where the hell did they start with it? Whoever was host to the angel babies was probably going to have to get some grace in them. 

He glanced at the angel in front of him. Being possessed was the most obvious way to do that — and Cas was the only angel he trusted enough to do that. 

Realizing he hadn’t said anything other than ‘wow,’ Sam cleared his throat. “So, they wouldn’t be able to have a body? Jack had one when he was born. I guess he’s a special case, though.” 

“Yes, because Jack is half human,” Cas reminded him, smiling softly. He was proud of Jack, too — his human side as well as the angelic one. “Creating grace or a human soul would take an enormous amount of power,” Cas continued, glancing at Jack’s door. “I wouldn’t ask Jack to do that, or he could harm himself. Creating human vessels for the angels, though, ones without souls…I think he could do it. With a bit of blood or something to start from, it would almost be like healing, only most of the body is gone instead of most of it still being there.” 

He gestured down to himself. 

“Gadreel and I are in bodies of our own without any human souls inside. Maybe if the new angels were created in the vessels, they would start out possessing them.”

It was a lot to ask of Jack — first making human bodies, then somehow turning a bit of grace into whole new angels in those bodies. They didn’t exactly have a lot of options, though. Cas said Heaven was designed to rely on the angels residing there, like living batteries. As far as Sam knew, Nephilim grace did nothing to power Heaven further.

“So, create angels from grace and human vessels from blood,” Sam summarized. Good grief. It was a crazy plan. “How are we going to store the grace? Can it just float around until we make the vessel?” 

Hopefully not making everyone around it blind, Sam added mentally. Looking at an angel’s true form burned out your eyes. A new angel would have no clue about that either. 

“Blood?” A groggy voice asked, making both of them turn to look. Jack was peeking out of his bedroom door, a blanket hugged around his shoulders and a sleepy little frown on his face. “Why blood?” He asked.

“Jack,” Cas said warmly, turning to him. “You’re awake. We were just coming to check on you.”

“How’re you feeling?” Sam asked, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder. He ignored the blood comment for now. They needed to figure out what they were doing before they brought Jack in on it. 

“I’m okay now,” Jack assured him. When he turned to Cas, his eyes lit up and he grinned. “I’ve never seen your wings the way they’re supposed to be. They’re big!”

Cas smiled and stepped closer to wrap him in a hug.

“Thank you for this, Jack. I haven’t flown in years. Well, uh, except on that airplane to Syria,” he allowed sheepishly, sitting back again. Jack raised an eyebrow at that. 

Feeling left out of both the hug and seeing the wings, Sam tucked his hands into his pockets. 

“Speaking of your wings.” He cleared his throat and tried to sound casual, ignoring the little flutter of excitement in his chest. “Gadreel made his visible. Can you do that, Cas?” 

“Oh, I…” Cas stood up straighter, caught off-guard by the request. “I can. Do you want to see them, Sam?” It almost seemed like he was shy about it.

Jack looked very curious to see, too. 

“Gadreel’s looked different when Sam could see them,” he said, bright-eyed.

“They were gray,” Sam added, slipping his hands back out of his pockets to cross his arms. Was it weird to see an angel’s wings? “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I-I’m just curious what color they are.” 

And if they’re soft to the touch, Sam thought eagerly, keeping his expression carefully neutral. 

Cas glanced between them and offered a small smile, taking a step back. 

“Gray suits him,” he murmured, closing his eyes. A blueish white glow came from his chest, and big shadowy arches and outlines of feathers rose behind him, stretching across the wall and ceiling. 

Jack stepped closer to Sam, wide-eyed. He’d never seen Cas show the shadows.

Cas sat up, his eyes an unearthly glowing blue. The shadow forms flickered and became more solid, glinting dark feathers replacing the soft shapes. His wings were BLACK, jet black, but there was an iridescent dance of rainbows on the surface like those on a soap bubble. They must have had a span of twenty feet or more. 

The angel blinked and the blue glow in his eyes faded, but the wings remained. He stretched and flexed them behind him like they’d been folded too long, sighing pleasantly.

Sam’s mouth fell open as he moved closer, unconsciously sticking a hand out to run his fingers along the nearest wing. The feathers were silky under his touch. He traced a long flight feather. Too bad there was nowhere in the world where Cas could fly without drawing attention. Maybe in the deep jungle or the desert. Even then, there was a chance that someone might spot him. Sam smiled as he looked back at Cas. 

“They’re beautiful.”

Cas glanced at the hand on his wing, and Sam could swear that he was blushing. That would be very un-Cas-like, though. 

“Thank you, Sam,” he murmured, bowing his head.

“Can you teach me?” Jack asked, reminding both of them that he was there too. He was standing near Castiel’s side, patting the wing nearest him very gently. “Sam’s right, they’re beautiful.”

“I, uh, I could teach you, but let’s wait until you’re rested for that,” Cas suggested, sheepish.

Giving Cas some space, Sam’s face flushed too. Walking up and grabbing his wings seemed rude once Sam thought about it. They needed to focus on the task at hand. 

“Uh, now that you’re feeling better, Jack, we have a couple of ideas about making angels.” 

So much for not bringing him into the discussion without a solid plan. Talking about making angel babies was somehow less awkward than feeling up Cas’s wings, though. 

Jack nodded quickly, getting an oh-so-serious look on his face.

“Did talking to Gadreel help?”

Cas stretched his wings out behind him one more time, then sighed and let them shift into long shadows before they faded away entirely from the tips up to his back. He looked smaller without them, somehow.

“Yes,” he answered Jack’s question, smiling. 

“…It did?” Sam asked Cas through a tight smile. Gadreel had been very unhelpful. He had spent most of the conversation he had privately with Sam trying to apologize and bringing up one bad memory after another. 

What information he got from the angel had been about things that he already knew. An angel and a human create Nephilim, Gadreel actually HAD slept with humans before, and whatever children he had had been killed off by the angels. 

“Don’t you think so?” Cas seemed surprised at that, for some reason. “Heaven can’t be powered by Nephilim grace, or they likely would have enlisted Gadreel to help make more Nephilim — something he has done before. It seems just like Naomi to order him to do something she considers too forbidden to do herself.” 

He frowned at whatever thoughts that brought up, shaking his head. “If Nephilim grace can’t help power Heaven, that proves two things — that they probably don’t just want Jack to stay there and operate as a battery for Heaven, and that they think he definitely has the ability to create pure angels somehow.”

“I don’t know how,” Jack said worriedly.

Sam turned to Jack, feeling stupid and tired all over again at Castiel’s explanation. 

“That’s what the blood was for. We have a plan. Sort of,” he added half-heartedly. “We thought that it’d be easier for you to create angels from bits of grace instead of from scratch. We need to find a way to create it without a vessel at first, maybe in a bottle or a person. I don’t know. Then Cas thinks we might be able to use human blood to make actual vessels for them. I know this sounds weird, but do you think you can try?” 

Jack blinked and frowned thoughtfully, hugging his blanket tighter around himself. 

“In a person, like…like a temporary vessel until the angel gets their own? Of course I’ll try,” he said, determined.

Cas patted his shoulder, looking from him to Sam. 

“Sam, you’re brilliant,” he said sincerely, gazing up at him. “I meant for the temporary vessel to only hold the gathered grace, but if we made the new angel already in a human, it wouldn’t be able to possess and control them because it hadn’t asked permission. And being in such close proximity to a human soul would strengthen it — souls are very powerful.”

“Uh,” Sam glanced between them. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You mean like if me or Dean were possessed by it? Or…” He trailed off as his brain went to a more strange conclusion. He blushed and cleared his throat. “Or do you mean we, uh, carry the angel with us until it’s grown?” He didn’t want to say it. Not in front of Jack. 

The kid’s face lit up, though.

“Like when my mother was pregnant with me?”

“It wouldn’t be like that, exactly,” Cas assured them. “An angel’s true form is celestial energy. It wouldn’t have a physical vessel until after it was born from the human carrying it, it would be more of a charge that was contained near the soul. I suppose it would be in the stomach, then, but you wouldn’t appear any different in shape. In theory,” he added awkwardly.

Ooh boy. Dean was going to have a ball with this idea, Sam thought, massaging his temple. It wasn’t like Sam could volunteer up some random passerby — the test was going to have to be conducted on himself. Again, he looked back and forth between the angel and the Nephilim.

Was he seriously about to do this? Was there no other way to save Heaven? Reminding himself of all of the dead people he had cared for like Charlie, Kevin and Bobby, Sam sighed. 

“Where do we start?”


	9. Crazy Talk

“Look, it’s not as crazy as it seems. Cas thinks it’s possible. We’ve got nothing to lose! Maybe we’ll make some angels that aren’t dicks,” Sammy said as he trailed after Dean into the kitchen. 

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Dean said, ducking to pull a beer out of the fridge. “You want Jack to charge us up with some Nephilim mojo…” He popped the lid of the bottle off on the counter. “…Then you and me need to do the horizontal tango with some angels — the two we’ve got handy, probably — and we’re knocked up with baby angels we can’t get out without Jack’s help, which CAN’T happen until he MAKES them soulless bodies out of human blood. Did I miss anything?”

Okay, it DID sound pretty crazy when it was all listed out like that.

Sam gave a little shrug, cringing at the explanation. 

"Basically. Yeah. If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. It IS pretty crazy. I can do it and if it works, we'll look around for other people that want to help Heaven.”

Dean took a long drink from his beer to avoid having to respond for a few more seconds.

This whole thing with Gadreel was already stressing Sam out, and it had taken Sam comparing the angel to Lucifer for it to click that Sam lumped them into the same level of ‘something forcefully taking control of your body away’ even though Gadreel had been a hell of a lot less violent about it. To Dean, Gadreel was nothing like the Devil. Lucifer had been gleeful about what he’d done — Gadreel had never seemed to enjoy killing anyone.

And now here they were with this weird situation to deal with.

Dean had never had to consider something like carrying a baby — he was a dude, that was pretty weird even for the kind of life he led. Now, though, thinking of Sam having to do it, it seemed too close to giving up his body again. Not because Sam particularly wanted to, either, because he thought if he didn’t, Heaven would go out. That wasn’t right. 

“No,” Dean said finally, sitting the bottle on the counter. He crossed his arms. “If it has to be one of us, it’s gonna be me.” 

“Or…both of us?” Sam offered. “I already told Cas I’d do it for him. He and Jack are pretty sure this is going to work.” 

Stepping around Dean, Sam took a beer out of the fridge too, sighing and trying to pop the top off like Dean had done on the counter. He was struggling.

Dean watched him for about five seconds before he couldn’t stand it — he took the bottle, popped the top, and handed it back to his brother.

“You don’t have kids because you feel obligated,” he said pointedly. “It’s only fair, I tricked you into Gadreel, you get to get out of jail free on the angel baby makin’.” 

He tried not to sound bitter about it, he really did. Four years didn’t make it sting any less, though, that Sam had said he wouldn’t have saved Dean in his place. If their roles had been reversed, Dean wouldn’t have blamed Sam for whatever Gadreel did, because hey, Sam would have thought he was Ezekial at the time, Cas had said Zeke was one of the good ones, according to the lore they had at the time he was trustworthy… 

It didn’t matter, though. They’d swept all that under the rug and it should probably stay there. 

“If Heaven’s light goes out, everyone we’ve helped over the years will eventually end up floating around forever.” Sam paused and sipped the beer. “I’m not just going to sit around and see if it works, Dean.” 

Dean looked at him, sighing slowly. Since Sam had already promised he’d work with Cas, there was no need for guessing who would end up with which angel on this project. Not that he really minded the idea of getting to know Gadreel a whole lot better, but was Sam really okay with that? Was Gadreel?

“Then we’ll do it together,” he said.

Sam’s eyebrows quirked, then he nodded as he got what Dean meant. He held his beer up in a toast. 

“Before we try the, um, sex thing — I thought we should just try injecting some grace. It might work and then we wouldn’t have to…” He trailed off, his cheeks darkening.

Dean tapped his beer bottle against Sam’s, smiling unhappily. 

“Whatever you wanna try.” 

He paused, pulling himself out of depressing thoughts about that self-imposed time he’d stayed away from the bunker and let Sam and Cas live there without him. They’d apparently withdrawn some of Gadreel’s grace from Sam with a big syringe thing while that was going on. 

“Uh, isn’t grace dangerous if it’s not…yours? Cas said something about almost dying with stolen grace breaking down in him,” he said uneasily. “Said if Crowley hadn’t saved him, he would’ve been toast. Gadreel’s grace kept you healed, though, even after you kicked him out, so maybe the switch-over has to be with consent or…somethin’.”

“Ah. Yeah. It was a long shot,” Sam muttered, sipping his beer again. “Okay. Fine. We’ll have sex. Great. This is fine. Definitely won’t make our lives awkward as hell.” With puff of a sigh, he started back out of the kitchen. 

“Sam!” Leaving his beer on the counter, Dean stepped quickly after his brother, catching one of his shoulders.

Sammy stopped dead in his tracks, looking down at Dean, beer still in hand. 

“What?” 

“About Gadreel. I-I don’t think I can do this with him if you hate him.” If it’ll make you hate me, he wanted to add, but only looked down at the kitchen tiles. It wasn’t like he could ask Sam NOT to hate the guy — he had every right to not want anything to do with him.

“After the past four years, I don’t know anymore,” Sam said softly. He stared down at the floor, too. “We’re all in the same boat. We’ve killed innocent people. Soulless me was a monster, you were a demon, and Cas tried to take over the world. I’m not saying I like him or that I’m okay with you SLEEPING with him. Just…I don’t hate him.”

Dean looked at him sadly, nodding. 

“That’s…that’s good. He told me he wished he died before he could do all this damage. Think we’ve all been there, too.” Clearing his throat, he patted Sam’s shoulder a little more roughly than intended, stepping quickly past him and out of the kitchen. 

The plan was crazy, but if Sam was willing to do it, Dean would stick with him every step of the way.

Gadreel was seated at the map table, absently playing with one of the small map markers. Cas was sitting in the chair next door. Hopefully they’d talked over the plan too.

Dean took a deep breath before stepping over next to the table. He glanced around. 

“Where’s the kid?”

“Jack’s still tired from healing our wings,” Cas explained. “He’s actually napping in your chair.” He nodded over to the Nephilim, curled up with his blanket exactly where Gadreel had awakened Dean earlier.

Sam’s expression lifted as he smiled, making his way over to adjust the blanket around Jack. He patted the kid’s hair gently. 

Gadreel watched him go, blue eyes cold. He didn’t seem particularly excited about the plan either if he had heard it.

Dean pulled a chair out and sat at the table across from him and Castiel. He stole a glance or two at Gadreel, but focused mostly on Cas instead.

“Sooo…Sammy and I are onboard,” he said, resting both hands on the table. “How about you guys?”

“I have put my faith in Castiel before and I do so again now.” Gadreel sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. He still hadn’t retrieved his leather jacket from the dungeon yet.

He seemed so businesslike about it. 

Awkwardly, Dean nodded. 

“Okie dokie. What do we need to do to get this show on the road, Cas?”

Castiel glanced over at Sam. 

“A spell. Jack needs to set it into motion before we do anything else.”

Sam came back over, frowning and glancing back at Jack. 

“Can we wait until tomorrow? He’s pretty sacked out.”

Dean pushed his chair back, standing.

“I think sleeping on it is a good idea anyway. Let’s order some food — I bet Jack’s hungry too.” They could wake him up for that and let him go back to sleep. In all of the distraction and commotion and dungeon visits today, they’d ignored their usual mealtimes. If Sam hadn’t shoved that sandwich at him, Dean would’ve been starving right now, himself.

“I will return to the dungeon,” Gadreel told them, heading off in that direction. He could have flown, but for some reason he chose to walk instead. 

Sam watched his back with a frown, then started after him. 

Dean stood by the table and watched them leave, uneasy. This whole thing would’ve been weird even without all of the baggage involved, and then they also had that to deal with. He sighed.

“It’s good for them to talk,” Cas said, getting to his feet and coming over to stand beside Dean. “If you tell me what food to get, I could…I could fly to the store.” He smiled as he said it, like he didn’t quite believe it himself.

Dean turned and smiled at him. 

“That’s right, I heard your wings are 100% again. Congrats, Cas, that’s awesome,” he said, patting his friend’s shoulder. Castiel smiled at him in return, almost shyly.

“Tell me what to bring and I’ll bring it back.”

“I’d say a giant chocolate bar for the kid should be first on the list,” Dean said with a little grin. “And maybe some fruit, Sam likes that. For dinner, my vote’s on pizza.” 

“Chocolate, fruit, pizza,” Cas said studiously, nodding.

“I’ll call Papa Don’s, just get the groceries and they should be done by the time you get there,” Dean told him.

“Got it.” The angel vanished in a rustle of feathers, leaving Dean alone with the sleeping Nephilim in the corner. 

Tomorrow was going to be a hell of a day.  


* * *

  
Sam had spent the entire night tossing and turning, his mind darting between topics fast enough to make him dizzy. 

At the top of the pile of concerns was fixing Heaven. Willing angels into existence, how carrying an angelic child would work — if it did at all — and a whole lot of other baby related questions. 

The morality of making a soulless human baby vessel. Dean’s eating habits and if they would affect a baby angel’s growth… It was more of a spiritual thing than physical, so alcohol wouldn’t hurt the baby. Right? 

Flopping onto his back again, Sam deflated with a sigh. Under all the silly concerns was a much bigger one. 

Castiel had asked Sam to be the one who slept with him. The one to carry an angelic child for him. Cas was pretty straightforward when he asked. He didn’t make it sound romantic or like he was interested in Sam. 

That bothered Sam WAY more than the idea of having a baby. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, cringing. He had to either wait for the nuclear bomb of emotions to go off after they had sex, or fess up and admit that he had feelings for the angel and that having sex with him might make Sam’s life a living hell. Both options stunk. 

An enthusiastic knock on his bedroom door yanked Sam from his thoughts. 

“Sam?” Jack called through the door, sounding excited and a bit nervous. “It’s breakfast time, and…could you help me wake Dean up? He won’t try to shoot you.”

Sam couldn’t help a tired smile as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up. He shuffled over to the door and pulled it open a crack to peek out in the hallway. 

“Good morning, Jack.” 

The Nephilim smiled when he caught sight of Sam. His hair was ruffled up like he'd just rolled out of bed, but the gray T-shirt he'd changed into had probably done it. It was good to see him looking less exhausted.

“Good morning,” Jack said, glancing down the hallway toward the kitchen. He turned back to Sam hopefully. “If you wake up Dean, I could go get Gadreel. Castiel says we all need to be there.”

Judging from the scent of fresh coffee drifting down the hallway, Cas was in the kitchen.

“I…I don’t think you should be alone with Gadreel, Jack. We still don’t know for sure if we can trust him.”


	10. For Heaven's Sake

Sam rubbed at his eyes and stepped out in the hallway. He didn’t feel like getting dressed. He hadn’t slept. He’d probably be crawling back into bed soon enough. 

Maybe even with Cas. 

Ooh boy. Sam’s face flushed at the thought. 

“Sam…” Jack stepped closer, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder. He looked up at the brunette earnestly, blue eyes clear and a bit puppyish. “Gadreel CAN’T hurt me. I could smite him from across the room.” He frowned thoughtfully, adding, “Castiel says you have good reason not to trust him, but somehow he trusts him. I don’t really understand.” 

“Ah, it’s a long story,” Sam told him, patting the kid’s back. Gadreel wasn’t an archangel. He wasn’t a demon. Jack was right about being able to smite him. Sam couldn’t shake feeling like Jack was his kid to protect, though. Jack barely knew the world. He didn’t know how to read people yet or sense a dangerous situation. 

Sam swallowed. No. Jack was a powerful being. He could handle it. 

“Alright. I trust you. Go get him.”

With Castiel at full power and able to fly, at least he could follow them if Gadreel decided to go rogue. Sam would just go get a big cup of coffee and everything would be fine. 

Jack beamed at the words ‘I trust you’ and nodded quickly. 

“Okay! You wake up Dean and we’ll meet in the kitchen,” he decided. Before Sam could reply, there was a rustle of feathers, and the Nephilim had flown away.

Instantly regretting letting Jack out of his sight with Gadreel in the bunker, Sam hurried down the hall to his brother’s room. He knocked lightly and pushed the door open.

“Dean?”

His brother was flopped in the bed on his stomach, one arm hugged around his pillow, his face buried in the soft surface. It looked like he’d slept in his clothes, but he’d kicked his boots off first, because they were on the floor near the foot of the bed.

The glowing numbers on Dean’s alarm clock were the only reason it finally occurred to Sam what time it was. 6:00 AM. Jack must have been very excited. 

Sam felt a little bad as he crossed the room to gently shake his brother awake. 

“Dean, wake up. Jack’s ready to cast the spell.”

Dean groaned and sat up on his elbows, squinting at the light spilling in from the hallway through the door.

“Yeah, okay…” He slowly got up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. It was a hopeless spiky mess before and after.

Sam casually lay the clock face-down on the bedside table and cleared his throat. 

“Last chance to back out. I’m totally okay doing this on my own.”

Dean was luckily way too busy rubbing at his eyes to notice the alarm clock maneuver. 

“Cas said Heaven’s lights were barely on even when he visited, right?” He asked groggily. “Gonna need at least two more angels, we know adding one’s not enough. I'm in, I've got to be in.” It seemed like a complicated thing to say when just waking up, and Sam realized he’d probably already been awake awhile. Probably tossing and turning and reasoning out the dutiful soul-saving justifications for going through with all of this.

Or fretting about Gadreel. Things were complicated enough without anybody sleeping together.

“I feel weird being the one to bring this up, but are you OKAY with sleeping with a guy? Even if it wasn’t to save all the souls in the world and all that. Y-you’ve never seemed gay to me. Or bi. Whatever. You know what I mean. Even if it wasn’t Gadreel, have you ever been with a guy? I have—” 

He was rambling. Great. Sam shut his mouth. They had done a lot of crazy things over the years to save the world. So far, sex hadn’t been one of them. 

Dean lowered his hand and sat up, looking at Sam. He’d only stared for a second before he sputtered into quiet, weary laughter, shaking his head.

“Sammy…that’s so far down on the worry list right now…”

Standing from the bed, he slapped Sam on the shoulder lightly.

“Don’t put some label on it, but yeah, you could say I’ve been with guys before. Guys, girls, hell when I was a demon, both at the same time.”

“TMI, dude,” Sam mumbled, heading for the door. “My point is that you seem like you’re trying to give me a choice here and I’m trying to do the same with you. I don’t want you to feel like you HAVE to have sex with Gadreel.” 

Leaving his boots, Dean padded after him in his socks. The lengthy silence told Sam he was probably thinking something other than what he finally said when they were out in the hallway.

“It’s just another one-night stand. Only, this time it’s for a good cause. ‘Let’s do it for Heaven’s sake’, literally.” He sighed and shut the bedroom door after them. “It’s not like he’s gonna hurt me.”

“I’ll kill him if he does,” Sam said under his breath before turning to Dean. He nodded. “Just imagine he’s Dr. Sexy and you’ll be fine.”

Dean snorted, looking off down the hallway. Sam thought maybe his face looked a little flushed at that. 

“I can’t believe you’re worried about me, here. I’m worried about Jack, and YOU and…” He trailed off, frowning. 

“Don’t worry about me. Cas knows the plan.” Sam cleared his throat, coming to a stop and turning to Dean. “But, uh.” He crunched his face, bracing himself. “Gadreel just thinks it’s me and Cas. We d-didn’t want to speak for you.”

Dean stopped, too, but didn’t really comment on that. Avoiding Sam’s eyes, he just sort of nodded. 

“I should talk to him before Jack does anything, then.”

“Jack went to get him from the dungeon, actually. So…” Sam shrugged, rubbing his neck nervously. “Sorry.” He started off down the hall again, following the wafting roasted scent of coffee.

Dean sighed behind him and fell into step again without a word.  


* * *

  
For once, Dean didn’t want breakfast. He’d barely slept last night, and his stomach was in knots. Sam’s very careful approach to his part in this, especially to make sure he didn’t feel forced into it, was really gnawing at him. He’d had no choice when he tricked Sam into saying yes to Gadreel, but that didn’t make it right. Sam, whose body had been used by the angel with Dean orchestrating it, was now giving Dean every courtesy Dean hadn’t given him. It made Dean feel even worse about it than he had before. 

And now here he was, about to take on this plan he’d promised he’d do with Sam, and yet he didn’t want to make Gadreel feel obligated, either. He didn’t want to tell the angel what to do — he wanted to ask — but with this much at stake, he wasn’t sure he had a choice here, either.

All of this weighed on him much worse than the sleep deprivation as he followed Sam into the kitchen. The heavy roasted aroma of hot coffee wafted over them both, and Dean felt a little sick. 

He was relieved to see that Jack and Gadreel weren’t there yet. Cas was sitting at the small kitchen table, a mug of coffee sat in front of him. He looked up and nodded at the brothers as they approached the table.

“Good morning Sam, Dean.”

“’Morning Cas,” Sammy told him in passing, reaching to pat the angel’s shoulder on his way to the coffee pot.

Dean tried not to snort at that. Sam’s affection for the angel was really obvious, to everybody but Cas probably. Dean’s best friend was a pretty blunt, literal kind of guy, and it would probably take a declaration of love to his face for him to get it.

At least there was a chance Cas felt something for him back. Gadreel, he and Dean weren’t exactly even friends, were they? 

Dean was sure Gadreel would dutifully get into bed with him if that helped Cas and Heaven, but that was terrible, too — it was taking advantage of him, wasn’t it? Gadreel still seemed to hold the mindset most angels did, that they had to be useful to be worth anything. And he’d spent so long wanting to win that back, was it really consent if they were telling him that sex with Dean would give him a purpose again? They needed his help, but that felt…wrong. And manipulative. 

The flutter of several pairs of wings drew him back to the kitchen and the coffee, and Castiel and Sam. Now Cas, Sam, Gadreel and Jack — the Nephilim and the other angel were standing in the kitchen doorway when he turned around.

“Good morning,” Jack said warmly, waving at his dads.

Sam looked relieved as he gave Jack a wave back. He joined Cas at the table and cradled his cup of joe.

“Alright. Everyone’s here.”

Realizing he’d been standing there lost in depressing thought, Dean made a beeline for the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. He had to talk to Gadreel, but right now it was tough to even look him in the eye. They really needed to talk before Jack did anything to start this Nephilim mojo charging process Sam had described. Most angels considered sex with humans very forbidden — even if he’d done it before, Gadreel had spent ages and ages in Heaven’s jail as a result, so what if he flat-out refused? Would Jack be able to take the energy back out? 

“I’ve gone over every detail of our plan and spellwork while you were sleeping,” Cas announced to the room. “It is as sound as we can make it, but this IS something no-one has ever done before. The only way to know for sure that it’ll work is to actually attempt it.”

“It should be safe, though,” Sam added, covering a yawn with his hand. He looked like he was about to fall asleep at the table. Apparently Dean wasn’t the only one who’d had a sleepless night. Sam sipped his coffee and continued, “The sooner we try it, the sooner we know if we have to start from scratch or not.” 

As he was talking, Gadreel stepped up next to Dean. He waited patiently for him to get his coffee, then followed suit. As soon as he had a cup, he took a seat at the table across from Cas, looking very serious about it all. 

“Should we make the human vessel first?” He asked Sam. 

“No.” Sammy shook his head. “If this doesn’t work we don’t need soulless baby vessels around.” 

“But what if we cannot MAKE a vessel? Then you are forever host to a child.” 

“What if we made the vessels and then couldn’t make the angels? Soulless humans are pretty animistic. We can’t take that risk.”

“You keep saying ‘vessels.’” Gadreel said, frowning. “We must first focus on making one child before you plan for others.” 

Sam coughed and sipped his coffee, eyes flicking Dean’s way. 

Dean looked at him, then at the others. Because this wasn’t already awkward enough, apparently they had to have this conversation in front of Jack and everybody else.

…No, no he wouldn’t do that to Gadreel. If asking this seemed like pressuring, asking in front of everyone he was trying to win over enough not to spend the night in the damned dungeon was hardly asking at all.

Sitting his coffee on the table, Dean abruptly stood from his chair, tapping Gadreel’s shoulder.

“Can we…talk for a sec? Outside,” he clarified, trying not to look at Sam or Cas. Jack seemed surprised at the turn in the conversation. He’d probably expected the adults to have all this stuff sorted out already.

Gadreel stood immediately and nodded to Dean. 

Sam nervously got up from his seat too, ducking behind the smooth counter to hide behind the hanging pans. 

“I’ll, uh, make some breakfast. Waffles?” He called over to Jack. 

Dean headed straight out the door, the sound of the kid and Sam discussing waffle toppings fading out pretty quick. Hopefully Gadreel was following him.


	11. Blunt

Dean only stopped when he was down the hallway from the kitchen door, turning to see if the angel was in tow.

Gadreel had followed him. The angel was standing there in the hallway behind Dean, blue eyes looking over the brick walls without interest. He seemed to be lost in thought and hadn’t noticed when Dean turned to check on him, even after following him there. 

The hunter started to cross his arms, then stopped himself. He started to stick his hands in his pockets, and stopped that mid-move, too. Finally settling on leaning against the wall, he hugged around his stomach and sighed. Heaven was counting on this, and more importantly, he’d promised Sam he’d do it. But he still didn’t want to tell Gadreel he had to, either.

“You know you’re not a prisoner here. Right?” He asked the angel, studying the hallway floor. 

Gadreel came closer and leaned against the wall, too, folding his arms loosely over his chest. 

“Where else would I go? I am not allowed back into Heaven without Jack. Has Sam asked you to throw me out?” 

Dean glanced quickly at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh…not exactly.” This was a hell of a way to start a conversation that basically boiled down to ‘let’s have sex for Heaven’s sake, it’s Sam’s idea.’

If he didn’t explain, though, nobody would, so Dean turned to face Gadreel and took a deep breath.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, but here’s the bottom line. We need to make more than one new angel — one’s not gonna be enough to help stabilize Heaven, or Cas visiting would’ve done it.”

There was a long pause as thoughts swirled behind the angel’s eyes, then Gadreel nodded. 

“I believe Castiel will agree to having sex with both of you. Sam, though…” He shook his head and frowned. “I sense a longing from him for my brother. Before you ask anything of Castiel, you should consult Sam.”

Dean coughed, trying to formulate a reply to that. Technically, yes, Cas could probably do the deed with both of them. Sam had described this spell as taking some of the angel’s grace in the process, though — doing that twice as fast probably wouldn’t be good for Cas, right? Never mind the everlasting levels of weird Dean would feel if he ended up in bed with his best friend. Sam actually liked Cas, and might not want to share, either. It just plain wasn’t a good idea.

“Yeah, I uh, ‘sensed’ that too. With you here Cas isn’t the only angel, though.” He looked at the floor again, his face heating up. Damn it. Gadreel already knew there was an attraction here — he’d commented on it in the kitchen last night.

“I…had not considered myself an option. My apologies,” Gadreel told him sincerely, looking away back down the hall toward the kitchen door. He was still frowning. “Would Heaven accept angels spawned from a traitor?” His question wasn’t directed at Dean. He turned back to him, keeping his eyes low. “Would Sam be alright with it? I can not believe he would be comfortable with me anywhere near him.” 

Oh, he thought him and SAM… So now Dean wasn’t even a considered option. Well that stung a little. Dean shifted uncomfortably on his feet, clearing his throat.

“Gadreel. I meant you and me. If you’d agree to it,” he added quickly, feeling like an idiot. This whole conversation felt like a mistake. Maybe approaching it like something to just do out of duty would’ve been better after all.

Gadreel glanced at him for a long moment, blinking slowly. 

“Ah. That makes far more sense.” He pushed off the wall and faced Dean. “Again, my apologies. Sam had made it clear to me that you would not be part of the plan, as it was just supposed to be Castiel and himself, so I had assumed you weren’t interested. Sam said that you would not be comfortable being host to a child.” 

Gadreel looked him over a bit more critically. His eyes were almost unfocused and he seemed to stare through Dean entirely. 

“I…have not told Castiel yet, but I am concerned with Sam’s soul. It has suffered a great deal of damage over his lifetime. This experiment could be more dangerous for him than they realize.” 

Dean blinked back, feeling a bit naked. He was pretty sure the angel had just checked out how his soul looked, too. 

“Sam and Cas both know about the soul damage better than anybody,” he replied uneasily. “They said this would be safe. You really think it’s that bad?” Now doubt was tugging at him — and the depressing fact that Sam had not just skimmed over his part when he talked to Gadreel, he’d ruled Dean out. So he really didn’t think he could count on Dean to do this with him, then.

“I trust Castiel. If he believes Sam will be unharmed, I feel it is not my place to disagree. But I shall keep watch for any signs of damage that Castiel might overlook in his affectionate haze.” Gadreel stuck a hand out toward Dean. “If you’ll have me, I shall help however I can.”

Dean looked at his hand and sighed. It was the most businesslike one-night stand agreement he’d ever gotten in his life, but Gadreel was an angel — what the hell had he expected, blushing? He’d swallow his pride and do this, to help Heaven and to prove to Sam he was willing to do this just as much as him.

He took Gadreel’s hand and shook it firmly. 

“You and me, Sam and Cas,” he agreed. “Sam says you’ve been with somebody before, but probably, uh, probably women, right?”

He had to ask.

“I have not been with a woman in millennia.” Gadreel kept hold of his hand, placing his other on top of Dean’s. “Lucas preferred the company of men.” 

So he knew what he was doing, then, from the memories of his vessel. Dean looked at their hands and felt flustered.

“Oh. Good,” he said, patting his other hand over Gadreel’s. “Look, I’m sorry. This wasn’t the plan when I asked you to stay and talk to Sam, I-I want you to know that. Sam and Cas came up with this since then.”

“Are you against it?” The handsome angel questioned, squeezing Dean’s hand lightly. He looked very bothered as he let go and took a step away. “After all that happened with Sam…” He shook his head again. 

Dean looked after him guiltily. 

“Looking back, I can’t blame you for what happened. You tried to talk to me, get to know me…and I was so disturbed to see Sam possessed I-I shut you down,” he said softly. “Maybe if I made any kind of effort to get to know you, you never would’ve switched to working for Metatron in the first place.”

Carefully, Gadreel moved closer again, putting on hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

“What is done is done. We have a greater challenge ahead of us now. Do not blame yourself, Dean.” The hand on Dean’s shoulder moved to rest on his back as Gadreel guided him away from the wall. The soft scent of whiskey drifted over him, and Gadreel pulled him into a hug. It was a lot like how Cas hugged him, awkward and a bit stiff. 

Dean hugged back immediately, arms looping around the angel’s waist. Even an awkward hug was something Dean really needed right now. He sighed slowly, resting his chin on Gadreel’s shoulder, and they stood there arm in arm for a long moment. 

“I’ll try,” he promised, finally. “Let’s get back in there, okay? Everybody’s waiting on us.”

The angel let go of him reluctantly, a hand lingering on Dean’s waist for a moment before he stepped away again. 

“Very well.” 

Dean nodded, biting his lip. It felt like he hadn’t done enough, here. He still wasn’t entirely clear on where he and Gadreel stood, relationship-wise. They’d agreed to have a baby angel together, that definitely made them more than friends, yet Dean hadn’t been sure if they were friends before. 

Worried thoughts still spinning through his head, he waved for Gadreel to follow and started back toward the kitchen. He still hadn’t drank any coffee yet.  


* * *

  
Sam dropped the last steaming hot waffle on top of the plate, finishing off a delightful pyramid of breakfast food that Dean would probably wreck in minutes. Jack already had a plate of waffles at the table, Dean and Gadreel had vanished out into the hallway, and Sam was trying not to think about the next step in their plan. 

The plan that involved Cas. His secret crush Cas. 

Sam glanced at the angel sitting at the table, blushing all over again. Crawling around on the floor in the map room last night side by side to make the large spell circle had been hard enough. How in the world was he going to think about Cas in a platonic way after they had sex? Sam could almost feel the mental breakdown starting. 

“Sam.” Cas’s voice was usually calming, especially saying Sam’s name, but this time it made him jump. 

“The waffles are done!” Sam almost shouted, eyes snapping up to look at Cas. He held the plate up as proof. 

The angel tilted his head, making that adorable confused squinting face that only Cas could make. 

“I know, Sam. Jack is eating a plate of them,” he pointed out gently, standing from his chair. Glancing at the Nephilim, who was busy drowning his waffle tower in chocolate syrup, Castiel smiled and headed over to stand with Sam in the kitchen. “I need to tell you something,” he said softly.

A bit awkwardly, he lowered his voice even further and amended, "No, I need to ASK you something."

Shivering at the dark haired angel’s voice, Sam gulped. He started nervously gathering up all the waffle dressings — a bottle of syrup, a stick of butter, a can of whipped cream — and the plate of waffles of course. If they were going to go to the map room and spend time charging up Sam and Dean, they’d have to eat breakfast out there. He gave Cas a smile as he picked up the waffle plate again. 

“Yeah?” 

Act casual, Sam told himself. 

Cas glanced back at Jack, hesitating. He turned back to Sam, blue eyes full of uncertainty.

“Maybe, uh, maybe somewhere Jack can’t hear us would be best.”

“I heard that,” Jack confirmed apologetically. He picked up his plate of waffles and smiled at them. “Do you want me to go away?”

“Could you just go wait at the table with the map on it? We’ll be out there in a minute,” Sam told him nicely, giving the kid a smile. Behind that smile, Sam’s mind was a whirlwind of worries. What did Cas want to say? Had he reconsidered who should sleep with who? Maybe he felt uncomfortable having sex with either of the brothers. 

Maybe Sam’s feelings had been found out. 

Cas smiled at Jack gratefully as the Nephilim vanished in a flutter of feathers. The angel immediately turned back to Sam, putting on a serious expression.

“Sam, I don’t know how long we have until Dean and Gadreel come back,” he said, “So I’m sorry if this sounds very blunt.”

“It couldn’t be as blunt as asking me to have your baby, so…fire away,” Sam mumbled awkwardly. He put a plate upside down on top of the waffles to try and keep them warm. Dean would be really sad if they didn’t melt the butter.

He could feel Cas’s gaze on him. 

“Okay. When you have sex with men, are you the one on the top or the one on the bottom?” 

Sam knocked the plate off the top of the pile of waffles, blushing furiously. He sat it quickly back on top, clearing his throat and keeping his eyes on the counter. 

“Uh, that’s, um.” 

How the hell was he supposed to answer that? When he finally mustered the courage to look at Cas, he couldn’t manage actual words — just an uneasy chuckle.

Cas looked a little sheepish now. He glanced at the door like Dean and Gadreel were going to burst into the kitchen and catch them talking about this.

“I mean which role you play, more than what position we’re—y-you’re in,” he clarified awkwardly, blushing the tiniest bit. “The spell, uh, in order for this to work, you will need to be the one receiving my…grace.” He glanced at the door again, flustered. “I want to be sure you’re comfortable.”

Sam gawked at him, face glowing hot with embarrassment. 

“Got it. Yep.” Sam raked the waffle dressings into his arms, snagged the plate and ducked around the counter to make a beeline for the door. A couple shots of whiskey would make the whole situation a lot less awkward. He’d have to come back for the bottle.


	12. Ready, Set...

Sam practically ran into Dean as he tried to hurry out the door. His brother and Gadreel were about to step through the doorway, and Dean tossed both hands up defensively, wide-eyed.

“Whoa, Sam, hi!” He laughed nervously, craning his head to look over Sam’s shoulder back into the kitchen at Cas. “Uh, we’re good to go, if this thing’s still happening,” he said uncertainly.

“I’ll be with Jack,” Cas said from off behind Sam, sounding troubled. There was the sound of beating wings, and Dean focused back on Sam like the angel was no longer there to look at.

“Great. Let’s get this over with.” Sam willed his face to stop being red as he stepped around Dean and started quickly down the hallway. There was no doubt Dean would catch on sooner or later. He noticed Gadreel fall into step behind him, looking at the covered plate curiously.

Dean followed quickly, too, frowning. 

“Everything okay with Cas?” He glanced at Gadreel, then back to Sam. There was definitely some train of thought going on beneath the surface, but it wasn’t clear what. 

Sam cringed and shook his head. 

“No. Yes. Everything’s fine. He just…” Sam sighed. They needed to know, too. Sam didn’t want to say it out loud, but he suspected Gadreel might end up on the bottom. Not that Sam liked to think about what his brother did in bed. Ugh. “For this to work he said that the angel needs to, you know. Be on top. In bed.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows, looking straight ahead of them again.

“OH. Right, yeah, uh, makes sense,” he said awkwardly, nodding. “With Heaven at stake, I’m sure we can all make it work, however it has to work.”

They arrived at the open doorway to the map room then, and Dean hurried inside like he was escaping this conversation.

Sam really couldn’t blame him there. He stopped at the door and looked at Gadreel. The angel seemed unbothered by the instructions. Maybe Cas had already told him? He gave Sam a nod in passing and headed down to join the others around the table. Sam blew out a breath, balancing the waffle plate. 

Here went nothing.  


* * *

  
Castiel and Jack were gathered at the edge of the big spell circle Sam and the angel had drawn the night before. Jack was sitting cross-legged and working on eating the remaining half of his plate of chocolate syrup waffles. He waved hello when he sighted Sam, Dean and Gadreel, and that made Cas glance over. 

His eyes met Sam’s for the briefest moment before he awkwardly cleared his throat and focused on the circle, waving them all over.

“If this goes according to the plan, it won’t take long to do,” he said.

Dean crossed his arms and studied the circle with a small frown.

“Who goes first? Or, uh, is it just all-in?”

“I'll go first,” Sam volunteered quickly, sitting all the waffle fixings and the plate of spare waffles on the map table. Clearing his throat and shoving his hands nervously into his pockets, he stepped over beside Cas. He struggled not to fidget as he gave the angel a nod.

Sam saw Gadreel pass them as he took a seat near Jack at the edge of the circle. His eyes traced over the symbols like he was reading a book. It was written in Enochian, so it made sense he could read it just as easily. 

Dean fidgeted, too, and looked torn between heading for the waffle plate and going to stand by Gadreel. After a moment of deliberation, he must have decided he wasn’t needed yet, because he went for the waffles.

Jack stayed sitting on the floor, looking up at Sam with a smile. 

“Don’t be nervous. Castiel checked everything again to be sure that it’s perfect,” the Nephilim said. He sat his plate of waffles on the floor to the side and got to his feet, waving at the circle. “I need you to step into the middle, please.”

Cas picked up the waffle plate and sat it on the table. He and Dean seemed to exchange a look as he did so, and then Sam’s brother was stepping over to sit beside Gadreel with his own plate. Cas lingered by the table, turning around to watch the spellcasting.

Sam made his way over to the middle of the circle. Whatever ritual Jack was about to do was a welcome distraction from thoughts of Castiel anywhere near Sam's bedroom. The tall man took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. 

Jack looked at Cas, who smiled and nodded. Solemnly, Jack hurried around the circle, lighting candles at the seven points of the star they’d drawn in there. When Sam was surrounded by flickering little flames, the Nephilim smiled and stepped inside the circle with him. Cas handed Jack a little copper bowl with liquid in it. It was the holy water Sam remembered setting up with the other supplies with Cas last night.

Smiling up at Sam, Jack held the bowl out to him.

“Here, hold this.”

Sam was pretty sure he could feel Dean staring at the back of his head.

Giving the kid an uneasy smile in return, Sam took the bowl from him. Hopefully the spell didn't involve any soul-touching. That wouldn't be pretty.

Jack went to rest his hands on the edge of the bowl, then switched to just taking it back from Sam at the last second.

“Sorry, Sam, I forgot,” he said sheepishly. “You need to take your shirt off first.”

Sam cringed. He glanced off to the side at Cas and felt his face warming up again. Turning back to face Jack, Sam unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. Focus. He just needed to focus. 

“Sam.” 

It was pretty tough to ignore Cas when the angel was talking to him, though. 

“Yeah?” Sam asked, lowering his eyes to the floor to avoid any chance of spotting Cas. He wadded up his shirt and awkwardly dropped it by his feet.

Out of the corner of his eye, he was pretty sure he saw the angel lowering his arm.

“Uh. Never mind,” Cas said awkwardly. “I was going to put that somewhere away from the candles, that’s all.”

“It won’t smudge the sigils,” Jack said proudly. “I added them to your circle with paint!”

Cas coughed. 

“Good idea, Jack. Go ahead, then.”

The Nephilim turned bright eyes on Sam, offering him the bowl again.

Sam took it and held it tightly, focusing on the rippling water inside. 

“Ready,” he told Jack. Maybe the spell wouldn't work? If it didn't work, there was no reason to sleep with Cas. Then the angel would be none the wiser about Sam's crush. It had been a long time. If Cas had any feelings for him, he would have said so, right? Cas was a blunt kind of guy – especially during that conversation earlier in the kitchen. Good grief. Sam cringed. 

Seeing his face, Jack assured him, “Don’t worry, it shouldn’t hurt.” 

He placed his hands on the edges of the bowl and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, his eyes flicked open to focus on the bowl, and they were burning brightly gold. 

“ _Passion et potestas data est,_ ” he recited in slow, careful Latin. The pronunciation was a little under-done, like a kid reading big words, but the meaning was clear. “ _Cum adolescit potentia animae. Novi virtutem de nativitate est. Angeli angelis vasis fictilibus._ ”

It was definitely something they’d written just for this. The wording was strange, but Sam roughly translated it in his head, and it talked about passion giving power, something about birth, and angels from angels.

“ _Sanctus voluntas tua!_ ” Jack said, and lifted his hands away from the bowl. It felt pleasantly warm against Sam’s palms. 

Sam couldn't stop his hands from shaking a little. The bowl hadn't been warm before. He trusted both Castiel and Jack with his life, but the Nephilim was still new to some of his powers. He'd survived the Apocalypse World, so he had better control over them now. But he didn’t do much witchcraft, and this was a new spell. Something home-brewed. Something that apparently was going to rely on Sam’s Hell-scarred soul for power. Anytime a spell involved his soul, Sam felt like he'd automatically fail.

Jack blinked and his eyes flickered back to soft blue. He took the bowl from Sam and smiled at him, sitting it on the floor at his feet. 

“Okay, hold still. Also, uh…sorry if this tickles.” The Nephilim dipped his left hand into the bowl, then stood and placed his right hand on Sam’s left shoulder. It looked like perfectly normal water on his fingers, but he very studiously traced a complicated, swirling sigil onto Sam’s stomach just below his ribcage. It felt warm, and yes, it did kind of tickle.

Sam watched the symbols, trying to decipher which one was which. It didn't really matter. For a minute, Sam had forgotten that the spell was trial and error. He HAD to have sex with Cas to see if it would work. There was no way out of it now. 

Jack kept the hand on his shoulder as he murmured, “ _Tenere en pace._ ”

The wet lines of the sigil started to tingle. Jack closed his eyes and lifted his hand from Sam’s shoulder, and abruptly the candles all winked out.

The prickle of magic across Sam's stomach grew stronger. He held his breath and looked down. The sigils that Jack had drawn there were glowing. 

It was a soft, almost glittery golden light. For a moment the rest of the room looked dim and gray by comparison, but as he watched the sigil faded away into his skin, and the lights returned to normal.

Jack looked from Sam’s stomach to his face and back, and Sam could practically feel the nervous energy he was holding in.

“Can you still see it, Sam?” The kid asked worriedly. “It’s supposed to disappear for you, but I can still see it.”

“It's g-gone,” Sam managed, letting out that held breath. He glanced around for Cas and spotted Gadreel first as he came into his view behind Jack, leaning and squinting from the edge of the spell circle to see what the sigils said. 

Cas was not far behind, but he wasn’t looking at the sigils. He was studying Sam with a sort of distant, unfocused gaze, and he looked a little worried. Dean, meanwhile, was still sitting on the floor with the waffle plate on his lap, but his complete attention was on the spellcasting, and he hadn’t eaten any yet.

Jack brought Sam’s attention back to him when he placed a hand on Sam’s stomach. After a moment where he seemed to be focusing on feeling something, the Nephilim sat up and smiled brightly.

“Okay, it’s done.”

Sam stared at him, then down at his stomach, then back up to him. 

“Uh, thanks.” Sam swooped to pick up his shirt and put it back on before Cas could stare at him anymore. Though the angel was obviously checking out his soul. It wasn't like Cas would look at him with anything romantic in mind. 

Sam shyly stepped out of the circle next to Dean, still fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. 

“Your turn.” 

“Oh, right,” Dean said, as if he hadn’t expected this. He sat the waffles on the floor next to the circle and stood, shrugging out of his flannel shirt. Tossing that on the floor, he pulled his gray T-shirt off over his head and ran a hand through his hair, stepping into the circle with Jack. The Nephilim smiled and started lighting candles again.

Sam felt a hand on his shoulder. Cas, it had to be Cas — everybody else was in front of him in the circle or near it. Sam silently cursed as he undid the last button he had done...since it was in the wrong hole. He glanced down to find Cas looking back and cleared his throat. 

“L-looks like it worked. I guess we're g-good to go,” he managed through a forced smile.


	13. Carry On

Chuck, wherever you are, give us another option here, Sam prayed. As much as he tried to make fun of his situation with a bitter sense of humor, it was getting harder to hide how much the idea of confronting his feelings for his angelic friend scared him. 

Looking at those blue eyes, Sam felt completely exposed. He felt like he should confess everything. Tell Cas that he was the most amazing person that Sam had ever met. That his smile made Sam's knees feel weak like in some god damn romance novel. 

Over in the circle, Sam could hear Jack reciting the Latin verses again. Abruptly, the air seemed to whoosh around them, and he felt like he and Cas dropped an inch or two to land on their feet again on the floor. It was quiet. The smell of browned waffles and fresh coffee hit Sam, and he realized that they were in the kitchen again. 

Had Cas just FLOWN them to the kitchen?

Taking a step or two away, Sam blushed and held up a hand.

“Wait, wait!”

Looking uneasy suddenly, Cas held up both hands.

“I probably should have asked before I flew you here,” he said. Sighing, he lowered his hands and stuck them into the pockets of his trench coat, looking around the empty kitchen. “I’ve made you uncomfortable again. I’m sorry.”

“It's not YOU exactly, it's this whole situation,” Sam admitted, running a hand over his face. He tossed his arms up. “I'm just nervous. Sorry. It's not you, Cas, really.” The brunette sighed. “Did you need to talk to me?”

The angel looked unconvinced, but he nodded.

“Yes. I want you to know why I asked you to do this.” He looked up at Sam, blue eyes stormy. “Why it had to be you.”

That look was...disarming. He shifted on his feet to face Cas more and pulled on a smile. The angel could sense longing. Sam needed to think about something other than the curve of Castiel's lips and how tempting it was for Sam to run his fingers through the angel's dark hair. 

Sam gulped. 

“Probably so you didn't have to sleep with Dean.” 

Cas tilted his head, brows pinching.

“Uh…it’s not that I dislike Dean,” he said awkwardly, shifting on his feet. “I-I didn’t want to damage our friendship, but I’m sure he would have gotten past it eventually…maybe…” He cleared his throat and stood up straight, taking his hands out of his pockets. It was kind of a soldier posture, raised chin and all.

“Sam,” he said, determined, “I picked you because I trust and respect you, and because you have always shown the same to me, even when I don’t deserve it.” The smallest, fondest little smile came to his lips, and he looked down at the floor, adding softly, “Because if there’s anyone I would want to try to outshine God with, it would be you.”

“Outshine God,” Sam murmured, blushing. “Cas, I...” His words failed him and Sam found himself stepping forward to give the angel a big hug.

He was so perfectly huggable. Sam rested his chin on Castiel's head and sniffled a bit. One of the things he loved the most about Cas was how honest he was. Hopefully whatever angel they tried to make together got that trait.

“Thanks Cas,” he told him, sneaking a kiss on top of Cas's head.

He felt Castiel’s arms go up around him, and then a hand patted his back lightly.

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” Cas murmured, turning his head to lean against Sam. “I’ll do everything I can, Sam, to make this comfortable for you.” He sat back and looked up almost shyly, keeping his arms around the hunter’s waist. “If there’s anything you’d like me to do, or not do, please tell me.”

Sam nodded slowly, caught off guard all over again by the beautiful angel in his arms. His eyes were a bit blurry. He felt that familiar weakness in his knees. This close together, Cas had to be able to tell how Sam felt about him. There was no way he couldn't notice. There was no more hiding it. Sam leaned down and pressed a kiss to Cas's cheek, then looked into his eyes again. 

“Can we go to my room?” 

Cas gazed at him as he brought a hand to Sam’s cheek, drawing him down to kiss his lips softly. 

“Hold onto me,” he whispered, and Sam heard feathers fluttering through the air.  


* * *

  
Taking his shirt off and standing around in front of Gadreel getting sigils drawn on him was weird enough; Dean did not anticipate the tingly feeling in his stomach the moment Jack spoke the last words of the spell. It wasn’t just on the surface — it felt like it was in the middle of his torso, something internal. Sam had had his soul touched before — maybe it was in that same location.

“If it disappears…it’s done,” Jack said, sounding tired all of a sudden.

Dean looked up from the sigil fading into his skin to see the kid swaying on his feet, and grabbed one of his shoulders. Jack smiled at him.

“It’s gone,” Dean confirmed, patting his arm. “You look wiped out — you should sit down.”

“Let me take you to your room.” Gadreel stepped up behind Jack and took his arm carefully. He gave Jack a smile. “You’ve done very well. The next step is up to us. You should rest while you can.”

The Nephilim smiled back at him a bit dizzily. 

“Okay. Promise you’ll wake me up if you need my help again, though.”

Dean stuck close to Jack’s other side, keeping a guiding hand on his back as they started for the door. 

“We promise, kid.” Inwardly, he was panicking. Sam and Cas had taken off at some point, and as soon as Jack was sleeping, it was just him and Gadreel. No, him and Gadreel and an obligation to do the horizontal tango no matter how awkward things got. Gulp.

With a flutter of wings, Dean found the three of them standing in the hallway outside of Jack’s room. Gadreel leaned and opened the door, keeping hold of the kid’s arm.

“Perhaps some music would help you sleep,” the angel suggested, giving Dean a look. Dean’s room wasn’t very far away from Jack’s…

Realizing where he was going with that train of thought, Dean flushed and cleared his throat loudly. 

“Hey, yeah, Sam sleeps like a baby when he listens to my rock albums. I can loan you one,” he told Jack quickly, slapping his back. “Be right back!”

Judging by the Nephilim’s slightly spacy expression, he wouldn’t be awake long enough to really listen to anything, but Dean knew how good his hearing was. He was going to be wearing headphones to bed, damn it.

By the time he got back, Gadreel had Jack tucked into bed, the Nephilim’s shoes neatly tucked under the edge of the bed. Gadreel was perched on the bedside patting Jack’s head and talking quietly to him. 

“…hopefully will be born with less hate in their hearts. Rest well, little one.” He stood, tucked the blankets up over Jack’s shoulders and stood watch over the bed much like Dean had found Cas doing many times over the years. 

Stepping up beside the bed, Dean touched the angel’s shoulder as he passed by. Jack hardly stirred as Dean put the headphones over his ears and tucked his portable cassette player in under the edge of the pillow. It was already playing one of his Kansas albums, verses of “Wayward Son” spilling out of the headset. 

Dean stood with Gadreel a moment and watched to be sure Jack was actually settled in. The kid was breathing slow and steady the way only peacefully sleeping people did.

“C’mon,” Dean whispered to Gadreel, and stepped quietly back out into the hallway. 

He was caught somewhere between stomach-twisting guilty nervousness and that strange, still calm that came with confronting something dangerous. It made no sense. There was nothing dangerous about this. It was just a one-night stand, like he’d told Sam. Gadreel was okay with it, Dean already thought he was attractive, and it was Sam’s idea, even.

But Sam hadn’t thought Dean would actually do it.

Gadreel followed him, reaching to take Dean’s wrist as they arrived as his bedroom door. 

“Dean, before we do this, there is something I must say.”

Dean slowly turned to face him, heart pounding all of a sudden. He cared about the people and situation here way too much to pretend it was some random one-night stand. He couldn’t really look Gadreel in the eye at the moment, either. What could he have to say about all of this? 

“Yeah?” Dean asked, trying not to sound as uneasy as he felt. He didn’t want Gadreel to think he was uncomfortable because of him.

“I understand that this mission is to save Heaven. I also understand that you could have chosen any angel — even Castiel — to help you do this.” The angel kept his gaze low, swallowing before continuing, “But thank you for allowing ME to be the one. I’ve never had the chance to enjoy parenthood for longer than a week. Jack gives me hope that our child may live forever, and I will give my life if I must to ensure that happens.” 

Dean looked up at him then, and felt stupid for being so concerned with little human things like he’d been. Sam had mentioned that Gadreel had had Nephilim children, and that meant…that meant Heaven, the same angels they were trying to help, must have killed them. 

It reminded him of Emma — his Amazonian monster daughter who’d grown up in a day and wanted to kill him. Sam had had to kill her, Dean hadn’t been able to do it. She had been a monster, but she’d still been his kid. He couldn’t imagine having kids who were dependent on him, babies, and losing them like Gadreel had. Seeing them executed. And the mothers, too — birthing Nephilim killed the mother, didn’t it?

Any family Gadreel had ever started had been killed. Taking the angel’s hands in his, Dean raised them and kissed them one by one. This wasn’t just about him and his stupid regrets. 

“Listen, Gadreel,” Dean said, trying to catch his gaze. “It’s not just for Heaven. Okay? And, it could’ve be any angel, but I’m glad it’s you.”

“Thank you, Dean.” The angel looked at him at last, blue eyes sad but determined. Gadreel lifted a hand and rested it on Dean’s neck much like earlier that morning in the library. He leaned down and gave Dean a soft, teasing kiss then gestured to the door behind him. 

The kiss made Dean’s stomach flutter. If that was a promise of things to come…

Glancing at the door, he stepped back against it and turned to face Gadreel, holding up a hand.

“Nope, can’t let you in yet,” he said, with feigned seriousness. They needed to relax and get comfortable. Maybe being playful would help. Turning his hand, he waved the angel closer, adding, “You wanna pass, you have to pay a toll in kisses.”

In the back of his mind, Dean was recalling how messy the bed looked when he dashed into his room to get the cassette player. Still better than the damned dungeon. Gadreel wasn’t planning to go back there after this, was he?

Gadreel cocked his head a bit and stepped after Dean, resting a hand over his shoulder against the door frame. He frowned and toyed with the collar of Dean’s shirt as he thought it over. 

“I’m not sure now is a good time for such games.”

“Oh?” Dean looked up at him, their faces not far apart, and felt a little twinge of doubt. Maybe the attraction here was one-sided, and it really was all about the mission and duty with Gadreel. Or maybe nobody had ever tried to flirt with him before? They weren’t going to try to do this all serious, were they? 

“Now seems like the perfect time to kiss me,” Dean told him, “but I could be biased about that, ‘cause I want you to kiss me. I mean, if you want to.” 

God, he needed to stop thinking so much. This wasn’t rocket science. And when the hell did he get so needy? Maybe it was because Gadreel could feel longing, but Dean had no idea if the angel was attracted to him or not.

“Kiss you? Are you certain?” Gadreel pressed in closer, his face only inches from Dean’s. That soft scent of whiskey and leather caught Dean’s attention all over again. Then Gadreel smirked and ducked a bit, scooping Dean up off the ground and holding him propped up on the angel’s hips. Now chest to chest, Gadreel easily pressed a kiss to Dean’s neck. 

If ever there was a way to instantly fluster Dean, being picked up or manhandled was it. And while smirking? And then going for his NECK? Instant devastation. The kiss sent a shiver down his back he was pretty sure the angel could feel, and Dean wrapped his legs around Gadreel’s waist, looping an arm up around his neck.

“I don’t know, better kiss me again to make sure,” he murmured. “In fact, maybe you better just not stop.”

“With pleasure,” the angel whispered against Dean’s cheek. Gadreel easily held him with one arm while he shoved the door open with the other. Catching Dean’s mouth for a greedy kiss, he kicked the door shut behind them.


	14. Not Subtle

Sam cringed as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. Dean had beaten him to the coffee pot. He wasn't sure that he could even look Dean in the eye right now, after spending all night with their angelic sort-of-brother. 

He quietly stopped where Dean was nursing his cup of coffee and poured himself a mug full of dark brew as well. 

The heavy roasted smell alone made Sam feel more awake. Last night had been SO awkward. He and Cas both were uncomfortable with the...required positioning, and Sam was kind of glad when they rolled over to sleep. Or pretend sleep, in Castiel's case. 

And Sam's. He'd laid there half the night, staring at the wall and feeling lousy. Cas had marveled about having sex with that Reaper woman that tried to murder him. He’d made it sound like he'd really enjoyed himself – yet when he and Sam finally got to have sex, Sam utterly failed him. 

Sam sipped the coffee and massaged his temples. He could count on one hand the times he'd ever disappointed anyone in bed, but last night sure as hell took the cake. Cas had made himself scarce before Sam woke up, which only added to Sam feeling like a total failure. Hopefully Dean and Gadreel had had a better time. 

The thought surprised Sam. He hadn't exactly been rooting for Gadreel and his brother to sleep together, but the angel had obviously been trying to make peace with them. He’d gone along with their plan to help Heaven. He hadn't flown or used magic around Sam, as per his request. 

Even after Gadreel had done all that, Sam couldn't force himself to trust him. Gadreel could easily be working for Heaven and on a mission. He'd tricked Dean before. He could probably do it again. 

Pulling himself from his racing thoughts, Sam glanced sidelong at his brother. 

“Good morning.”

Dean actually jumped, looking at him quickly with wide eyes. He must have been lost in thought not to have said anything to Sam yet. Sam’s brother looked like he’d taken a shower before venturing out here; he had a black tee and a pair of beat up old jeans on, his hair a bit mussed up from towel drying it, and — was that a little mark on the side of his neck? 

“Uh. ‘Morning,” Dean replied a bit sheepishly, giving Sam a nod. He smiled, but it wasn’t a very happy one. 

The mark on Dean's neck was disappointing. At least Gadreel kissed him. Cas did a bit of that in the beginning. Then they’d gotten distracted. With awkwardness. Sam cleared his throat and asked the most obvious question. 

“So did you guys...uh...” 

Maybe they just made out and didn't have sex. Yeah. Maybe that was it. Sam felt guilty wishing that his brother's night was as bad as his own had been. It would just make talking about his evening with Cas a bit easier if, say, Gadreel was terrible in bed. 

Dean immediately looked down at his coffee, smile fading. He cleared his throat and nodded. 

“I know you didn’t think I’d do it, but yeah. And before you ask, he didn’t do anything wrong. Was actually, uh…” He paused and his eyes flicked up to Sam’s uncertainly then back down to the coffee. “He took good care of me. Was actually kind of sweet. So don’t worry about it.” 

Great, Sam thought darkly, carefully keeping his expression calm as he gave his brother a nod. 

“I thought you'd do it, Dean. You said you'd do this. Glad to hear you had fun.” Sam sighed. He didn't really wanna talk about it anymore. The longer they talked about Dean and Gadreel, the more likely it was that Dean might ask about how last night went for Sam. “Is Jack awake yet? Doesn't he need to scan us so we know if this worked or not?” 

Dean looked so guilty all of a sudden. He turned around abruptly to refill his coffee mug from the pot. 

“He barely walked to bed last night — let the kid sleep,” he mumbled. Even after pouring the coffee, he kept his back turned, sighing and letting his shoulders slump. “I know I don’t have to worry about how Cas treated you, but…if we can check if it worked, I guess that means you guys went through with it too, huh?” He took a deep breath and turned back around, shooting Sam a smile. “Hope he didn’t manhandle you too bad.”

“It...was fine.” Again, Sam sighed. He took a long sip of coffee and went to rummage in the fridge. For once in his life, cheap greasy food sounded good.

He could feel Dean’s stare on his back.

“Wow,” came the comment from his brother finally, after a long moment of awkward silence. “You, uh…you okay? Do I need to talk to him? You guys actually have a thing for each other, I guess I thought…” Sam could practically hear the shrug in his tone after he trailed off.

“What?” Sam asked a bit too sharply as he turned around. He shook his head. If Dean already knew, why the hell didn't he say anything? 

Dean gave him a knowing look.

“C’mon, Sammy. You guys aren’t exactly subtle. I think Cas was the only one who didn’t know at this point, and after last night…” He sat up, blinking. “Wait. You DID tell him, didn’t you?”

Sam kept staring, blinking as he tried to wrap his head around that. Dean thought Cas liked Sam? Did Cas? 

“I-I…no. We just…” Sam felt his face flush at the memories. “We just did the, um, basics,” he said, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Didn't talk much.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Dean sounded incredulous, but sympathetically incredulous, for what it was worth. “And he didn’t tell you anything, either? I really do need to talk to him…”

“Please don't,” Sam told him, rolling his eyes. “It doesn't matter, okay?” 

The stinging pain in his chest told him it did, but it wasn't like he could make Cas like him. Dean was right. If Cas had feelings for Sam, he would have brought it up last night. 

Unless Sam was just THAT terrible in bed. Maybe Cas had changed his mind.

“Right,” Dean said, unconvinced. He sighed and took a sip of his coffee, though, letting the subject drop. “What time is it, anyway? I, uh…I was pretty worn out, I think I slept in.” 

Subtle.

“It's 8:31,” Sam told him, giving up on the fridge and heading back to top off his cup of coffee. Sooner or later, he was going to bump into Cas. The more coffee he had in his system by then, the better.

“Oh,” Dean said, eyes following him. He seemed like he wanted to add something, but held off and just took a big swig of his coffee instead. They had done the spell yesterday morning, fairly early, so even though it was only 8:31, they really had been in bed awhile. “So…nobody but Jack can tell if this worked? As long as it doesn’t take any more of his mojo, we could probably wake him up and find out and let him crash again. He should eat something, too.”

“I'll check on him.” Sam hurried out of the kitchen before Dean could say anything. Checking on Jack was one of Sam's favorite pastimes. He totally got why parents watched their kids sleep.

Since Jack was supposed to be asleep, Sam didn’t knock before opening the door to the Nephilim’s room. Jack was sitting up in bed, though, drowsily examining a portable cassette player that he was wearing the headphones to around his neck. He looked up when Sam opened the door, blinking.

“Sam. Good morning.” The last was half-spoken, half-yawned.

“Good morning,” Sam replied softly. He couldn't help a smirk at the yawning. Jack had just slept for a day, why was he tired? Sam took a seat on the edge of the bed, balancing his coffee cup on his knee. “How're you feeling?” 

Jack took off the headphones and sat them and the cassette player aside. Turning to Sam, he smiled.

“I’m okay. Castiel seemed worried, too.” Jack’s blue eyes focused on Sam’s stomach, suddenly brighter and more alert. He frowned in concern. “He said that things went well, but he was still worried.”

Of course Cas had already come by, Sam thought. Cas was a good dad. He probably liking checking in on Jack as much as Sam did. 

Hopefully Cas was just worried about Jack's part in this, not Sam's lack of skill in the bedroom. Not that he would’ve mentioned something like that to the Nephilim.

“Everything went fine. He was probably just worried about YOU. If this works, there's a lot more work for you to do. Are you sure you're up to it?” 

Jack brightened at that, smiling and scooting closer to Sam. He was still in the same clothes from yesterday, but Sam noticed his shoes had been tucked under the edge of the bed with care. 

“Of course! If this will help Heaven, then it also helps my mother, and all of the other souls there,” he said warmly, holding up a hand. “Can I see if it worked now? The sigil seemed to.” 

“You can do that without a spell circle?” Sam asked, unconsciously leaning away from Jack's hand a bit. If it hadn't worked, he'd have to spend another night with Cas...embarrassing himself. 

This was the whole point of that, though. He gave Jack a nod. 

The Nephilim looked surprised at the question, but nodded too. 

“The sigil collects grace and holds it by your soul, and because it’s held there with my powers, I should be able to just feel the difference,” he explained a bit sheepishly. “Um, but I can’t feel it through your shirt. I have to touch the sigil.” He turned and slipped his legs off the side of the bed as he spoke, leaning to put on his shoes one by one. “Can you lift your shirt up?”

Sam lifted his shirt, trying not to think about how weird the situation was, only the goal: keep everyone they'd ever loved or saved in Heaven where they belonged. 

Jack sat back up and placed a palm on his stomach just under his ribcage. He sat there for a long moment, eyes flickering to their bright gold and gazing off into distant nowhere. Finally, he broke into a little smile.

“It’s working, Sam. I feel Castiel’s grace here.” 

Lifting his hand away, the Nephilim let his eyes fade to their usual blue, and he sat back and beamed at Sam. 

“I was really worried I messed something up and it wouldn’t work. I hope it worked on Dean, too.”

“Maybe we should go check?” Sam said shyly, lowering his shirt. The word 'working' concerned him a bit. It implied that this might be a 'more than once' thing. Sam wasn't sure he could face Cas in the hall, much less the bedroom again. 

Jack hopped off of the bed, running a hand through his hair and straightening his T-shirt. 

“Okay. He’s probably with the coffee,” the kid guessed. Correctly.

“Uh, yeah. I was just talking to him. I need a refill anyway.” Sam got up and gave Jack a smile. The plan was working so far. The part about willing angels into existence and making soulless vessels was still looming on the horizon, though. If they failed at any of those steps, Heaven's lights were doomed to go out.


	15. Dungeons and Duty

After Sam left, Dean couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. About Cas, for one, but also the comment about last night. ‘Glad you had fun.’ Because that didn’t sound bitter. Dean couldn’t deny it, either — last night HAD been fun. Lucas must have been very good company to Gadreel — he seemed pretty experienced in the bedroom, and not rusty like Dean had expected from a guy who hadn’t been with someone since the Garden of Eden. 

Experience was only the half of it, too — there was some perfect chemistry that made them just click. It was the most passionate one-night stand Dean could recall, and thinking back on it too much got him all hot and bothered all over again. If Gadreel thought of this as all for the cause of saving Heaven, he was pretty damned dedicated.

Dean didn’t regret what they’d done. The way Gadreel talked about his dead kids, though, made him nervous that this plan would fail, and he would’ve gotten the angel’s hopes up for nothing. He really wanted it to work, for Gadreel’s sake as much as Heaven’s.

Talking to Sam left him feeling guilty for being into this plan, like it was only okay if he was reluctant or something. That was stupid — he needed to be into it. There was no other way to do this. Still, it made him want to talk to Gadreel again. The angel had been gone when he woke up that morning, and Dean had a bad feeling he’d gone back to the dungeon.

That was how Dean found himself standing in front of said dungeon, knocking on the door like it was Gadreel’s room now. Ugh.

After a moment, Dean heard footsteps on the other side of the door on the stone floor, then the door pulled open slowly. Gadreel looked out at him curiously. 

“Good morning, Dean.” 

Dean looked back a bit gloomily, coffee cup forgotten in his hand.

“Hi, Gadreel. Was afraid I’d find you here,” he said, pushing the door open further. Gadreel looked even more attractive after last night, if that was possible. He still hadn’t put his jacket back on. Dean wanted to get a bit closer and touch him, maybe give him a kiss. Instead he sighed. “You know you were welcome to stay with me…right?”

The angel ducked away and crossed the room to sit in the same large wooden chair where he had been shackled a day ago. His leather jacket was thrown casually over the back. 

“I wasn't sure that I was welcome after I had fulfilled my purpose,” he said as he leaned back in the chair. 

Dean closed the door after them and started after him, coming to stand in front of the chair.

“Don’t say it like that. You know I’m not just using you, here — you have to,” he said, trying not to sound as panicked as he suddenly felt. Was that really what Gadreel thought? He’d talked to Dean about having kids, he’d been so heartfelt about it… Dean really thought they’d had a connection. It was surprising how much it hurt to think he thought so little of Dean in return.

Maybe it WAS wrong to be into it. Maybe he was just an idiot to think Gadreel might even consider it anything but all for Heaven’s sake. 

Gadreel sat forward in the chair suddenly, reaching out to place both his hands on Dean's sides and move him into a hug. 

“I did not mean to upset you,” he said more softly, gazing up at Dean through stormy blue eyes. “I did not want to assume your feelings. I thought that Sam, and maybe you, would think that I was taking advantage of the situation. I understand my place and my duty here, Dean. I know that I 'have to.'” 

Dean wanted to put his arms around the angel in return, but he felt frozen. If last night was just because Gadreel thought he had to, that meant he might not have wanted to, and that made Dean a little sick. Here he’d been, thinking they had a good time, guilty for having SUCH a good time…

“Didn’t you want to?” He asked, around the sudden lump in his throat. “You feel longing, you know I wanted to, but I-I can’t tell with you. Please don’t tell me we did this, and you didn’t want to.”

Gadreel looked a little hurt himself, letting his arms loosen around Dean. 

“To have a child again, to save Heaven...the chance to be with you. I wanted all of that. I thought that I showed you that last night. I have always spoken better with actions rather than words. I'm sorry. Yes. I wanted to do this.” 

Overwhelmed with relief, Dean finally hugged him back, hugging the angel’s head to his chest. He was sure to hear Dean’s heart racing, but the hunter didn’t care. Thank Chuck, Gadreel didn’t just go along with things because he thought he had to.

“I’m sorry, too,” Dean told him, swallowing hard. “Thought I read you right, but when you said you have to…” He sat back, cupping Gadreel’s face in his hand and looking him in the eyes. “Listen, you gotta understand something. I don’t care what your ‘place’ is here, or what you think your ‘duty’ is, or what Heaven thinks of what we’re doing. I do care if I hurt you.”

Gadreel stared up at him, eyes growing misty. He placed a big hand over Dean's as sadness washed over his face. 

“No one has ever said that to me.” 

Dean hated how easily he could believe that.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, feeling his own brows pinching sadly as well. “About that, about your kids, about…C-Cas says Heaven tortures prisoners. You didn’t deserve any of that, and you don’t deserve to stay in this damned dungeon.”

Gadreel got to his feet. He took the cup of coffee from Dean and sat it carefully on the chair before facing him again. Then he leaned in and kissed Dean slowly, muscular arms holding him close and stirring up memories of the night before. When he sat back a bit, he was actually crying as he spoke. 

“I believe I saw a bench in your room.”

The tears made Dean’s chest hurt. Gadreel had been around as long as Cas — how little kindness had anyone shown him, if this was such a big deal? He rested his forehead against the angel’s and looked up at him. 

“Gadreel. You don’t have to stay on the bench. Or the floor, or…” He hugged around the angel’s neck, running a hand over his hair. “The bed’s big, and you’re welcome even if you’re not ‘fulfilling your purpose’ or whatever you wanna call it.” He smiled, trying to catch the angel’s gaze. “You’ll be good company.”

The angel nodded a bit, eyes meeting Dean's as he was trying to regain his composure. 

“As will you,” he told Dean softly. 

“As long as you don’t mind snoring,” Dean joked, but gently. He tipped his head up and brushed his lips against Gadreel’s. “C’mon, let’s get outta here. No more dungeons for you.”  


* * *

  
“Dean?” Sam called as he padded his way down into the kitchen. Scanning the room, though, he found Cas by the coffee maker instead of his brother. Instantly awkward from the memories of last night, Sam held up his cup. “Hey Cas. Uh, is there any coffee left?” 

“Sam.” Castiel nearly spilled the mug of coffee he was holding by turning around too fast. His dark hair was a ruffled mess, dress shirt collar creased, and his tie was hanging crooked. It was tied even worse than usual. 

The angel’s focus moved from Sam to Jack and back again nervously. Finally, he reached and took the cup from Sam’s hand, turning his back to pour coffee into it.

“Good morning,” he said awkwardly, handing the cup back to Sam. 

“I saw you already, but good morning again,” Jack said, smiling and stepping around Sam to gesture at him. “The spell is working, Castiel!”

Just turning back as he picked his own cup up again, Cas directed uneasy blue eyes at Sam.

“It…is?”

“Ah, yeah,” Sam mumbled, blushing pink as he sipped his coffee. He made a face as he realized how hot it was. “Kind of a surprise,” he added in a mumble. 

With how horribly awkward their…encounter had been, it was a miracle they could even ‘get the job done,’ so to speak. Sam couldn’t remember a night he regretted more that hadn’t involved alcohol. 

Good god, he thought miserably as he took a more careful sip of coffee. 

Cas looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it and took a drink from his mug instead. His coffee looked hot, too, but apparently burning his tongue was better than thinking about last night. 

Jack smiled at both of them, blissfully unaware of how uncomfortable they were. The kid wasn’t great with social cues, kind of like Cas. 

“Yeah, I was afraid I messed the sigil up, but it’s working perfectly! In a few more nights there should be enough for it to form the grace into an angel.” He turned and opened a cabinet, looking through the boxes in there. “Do we have any more TopTarts? Dean promised not to eat them all this time.” 

While Jack had his back turned, Cas shot Sam an almost pained look. He still looked like he wanted to say something, but Jack would hear if he did.

“The plan’s working,” he said finally, loud enough for the Nephilim to hear. “Everything’s going, uh, according to plan. Yep.”

“A few more nights?” Sam asked with a grimace. Repressing his feelings for Cas was difficult enough without more awkward sex. Maybe if Sam showed him some new tricks…no, then he’d get better, and then Sam would be into it, and then Cas would notice, and then Sam would have to explain why he’d been hiding his feelings for YEARS — 

Sam crossed the room and reached into a tall cabinet, handing the box of TopTarts to Jack. 

“Is there any way to boost the effect? We don’t really have time for ‘a few more nights.’” 

Jack took the box from him, blinking. 

“I don’t think we should change the spell in the middle of performing it,” he said uncertainly. “It’s working right now, and compared to waiting for God to come back and make more angels, this is really pretty fast.” The last was said with a little smile and a complete lack of sarcasm — he genuinely meant it. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Cas start inching toward the door.

“I guess you’re right, excuse me,” Sam told him quickly, sitting his coffee down and heading after Cas. They really needed a minute to talk without Jack listening in.

Jack shrugged and made a beeline for the toaster. Cas, meanwhile, had slipped out into the hallway, coffee mug still in hand. He didn’t go far, though, just stood there awkwardly beside the door and looked down into the coffee sadly.

Sam stepped out behind him and gently closed the door back into the kitchen. Jack was half angel, so he could probably still hear them if he wanted to. Hopefully he was distracted by his sugary breakfast,

“Cas? Can we talk?”

The angel sighed slowly. 

“We should, Sam. But first I have to tell you something.”


	16. Butterflies

“Shoot,” Sam said as confidently as he could manage. If Cas said that he was terrible in bed last night, Sam was ready to argue that it took two to tango. He had had feelings for the angel for a really long time. Jumping in bed with him should have been like a dream come true, but all Sam could think about the entire time was trying to hide how he felt and stay uninterested. 

Thankfully, the awkwardness had made that pretty easy. 

Cas looked at him from under his eyebrows, chin low. He looked around the hallway next, opening his mouth and then closing it again. He sighed.

“You’re wonderful, Sam. Y-you let me into your bed and yourself, and it’s a privilege to be the one with you.” He took a deep breath, adding softly, “And you deserve much better. I understand why you don’t want to be with me again. I’m so sorry.”

Caught off guard by both the bluntness and sincerity of his friend, Sam stepped closer to put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. 

“Cas, I’m sorry too. I…I like you, and I was so freaked out that this would mess up our friendship, I just panicked. I couldn’t deal with the idea of making you want to avoid me.” 

Sam shook his head, running a hand over his face. Everything that he had said was true, he just hadn’t added the fact that he was in love with Cas. The thought of losing his friendship was far more damaging when seeing him was some of the brightest parts of Sam’s life. 

“And then I left before you woke up,” Cas realized aloud, looking back down at his coffee and cringing. “I’m not good at this, Sam. I’ve never done it as an angel before, or with a man,” he said awkwardly, hesitant to look up at Sam again. He did finally, blue eyes stormy.

“And I care about you. I was so worried that I would hurt you, and you seemed tense, and I, uh, I thought I must be doing something wrong.” 

He fell silent and shook his head, looking around the hallway like Dean might materialize and overhear them. With Gadreel able to fly, it wasn’t that far off. 

“I’m sorry. I know Jack said it was working, but if you don’t want to continue, I-I’ll understand.” 

Of course Cas blamed himself — and Sam couldn’t let him do that. He had to say something. Admit the truth — or even just part of it. 

“Cas, I, um.” Sam gulped down his nervousness and forced himself to look the angel in the eye again. “Cas, I care about you too. Um, no, wait.” 

Knowing Cas, Sam had to be very blunt. Leave no doubt in his friend’s mind. 

“I l-love you. As a friend first, but — over the years, something changed and I started feeling different — not bad different! I don’t want to just be friends and it wasn’t because of this case, it happened a long time ago.” 

Sam cringed, noticing he was rambling to avoid the point. Taking a deep breath, he stared at the floor. 

“I didn’t want to have sex because I thought you wouldn’t like me and then you’d feel like you had to be my friend anyway, and I was so scared that I wouldn’t be able to do that.” Sam sniffed, trying not to get teary-eyed as the wave of emotions finally bubbled to the surface. “Cas, I’ve been in love with you for years.” 

About halfway through all of that, Castiel had started staring at him, both hands clutching his coffee mug tightly. Big blue eyes continued to stare as Sam finally confessed how he really felt and left them both in silence. 

“Sam,” he said finally in a small voice, still wide-eyed. “Me too.”

“You do?” Sam said raggedly, moving closer to take the angel in his arms. The brunette wanted to ask why Cas hadn’t said anything, but Sam hadn’t either. It was probably the same reason — a fear of losing the other. Instead, Sam leaned down and kissed him. 

Cas hardly pressed back into the kiss, instead looping an arm around Sam’s waist and burying his face in the brunette’s shoulder. He drew a shaky breath.

“I thought you saw me as a brother, like Dean,” he sniffled. “But I love you dearly. I thought there was no chance you would ever w-want me back after last night, so I…I ran away. I’m sorry I didn’t stay, Sam.” He sat back, looking up at Sam with teary eyes, and mustered a small smile. “You really don’t want to quit? I’m giving you the chance.”

“I don’t want to quit, Cas,” Sam said softly, lifting a hand to trail his fingertips through Castiel’s hair. It was so messy. “I just didn’t want you to think that I only wanted to be with you for Heaven’s sake.” 

The angel calmed at the touch, a few tears escaping down his cheeks as he nodded. He looked down at the long-forgotten coffee mug in one hand, leaning to place it on the floor. When he stood again, he took Sam’s hands, squeezing them both tight. 

“I love you. If it wasn’t you, I-I don’t think I could do this. Make an angel with someone else. Not even for Heaven.”

Sam felt his cheeks warm a bit as he pressed a kiss to Cas’s cheek. 

“Maybe Heaven will need more than—” 

Sam froze up at the sound of footsteps heading their way down the hallway. Would it be weird if the others saw them kissing? Considering what the spell required…

Castiel seemed a lot less concerned with this — he half-turned to look behind them, keeping hold of Sam’s hands. 

“Dean, Gadreel. Good morning,” he told the approaching hunter and angel. Sam saw Dean raise his eyebrows at them and immediately cover his reaction up with a big smile. 

“’Morning, Cas. Where’s Jack?”

“Kitchen. He’s in the kitchen,” Sam replied quickly, letting go of Cas’ hands to pick up the angel’s coffee cup and return it to him. “He was wondering if your spell worked.”

Dean turned and headed for the kitchen immediately — a little too fast.

“Us too. C’mon, Gadreel, let’s find out how much more work we’ve gotta do.” He didn’t even try to sound unhappy about that.

Cas and Gadreel exchanged a glance, but said nothing. Cas turned to Sam as soon as the others were through the kitchen door, cupping Sam’s face in his hand and drawing him down for a kiss. 

“We should go, too,” he said reluctantly. “Jack is probably wondering why we left.”  


* * *

  
Dean didn’t comment on it, but he was really glad to see Sam and Cas talking it out. Sam seemed so miserable during their talk around the coffee pot that it just made Dean all the guiltier for how well he and Gadreel seemed to go together. It had been a struggle to keep his hands off of the angel on the walk here, and Dean had lost his resolve a few times and kissed him.

It sounded ridiculous, but Dean was pretty sure he had butterflies in his stomach just being near Gadreel. Tingly, fluttery butterflies. It was a nice feeling, but really weird. He’d always thought those descriptions of people with crushes were metaphorical about the damn fluttering in the stomach. 

Their talk in the dungeon was replaying in Dean’s head, too. Gadreel had lost every child and every lover he’d ever had. Their situation was awkward and they weren’t technically a couple, but Dean’s protective side already wanted to show him all the good things in life. 

Not all today, though. 

“Somebody tell this kid sugar’s supposed to make you hyper,” Dean commented as they arrived at a comical scene — Jack, two half-eaten TopTarts in hand, leaned on the kitchen counter sleeping.

“The spell took a lot out of him,” Sammy said as he ducked around Dean to check on Jack. Patting the kid’s head, Sam smiled. “I think he’s out.”

“He WAS barely awake when we took him to his room last night,” Dean agreed, glancing at Gadreel. Cas stepped past them to place his coffee mug on the counter, and Dean looked at him thoughtfully. Cas was an angel, and Dean had known him for years, trusted him, was fond of him, they had their profound bond…

So why the hell was he so head over heels for Gadreel in just a few days? He felt nothing but platonic affection for his angel best friend, even though Cas had literally said ‘I love you’ to him and Sam in the past. Okay, and Mom… Cas definitely meant it in a family sort of way, too. What was the difference?

“Jack, uh, he says the spell’s working for us,” Cas informed them a bit awkwardly. “He said it’ll take a few more days to have enough grace to make an angel.”

Recalling how Cas had been holding Sam’s hands when they arrived, Dean smiled at him.

“So we’re probably in about the same boat, then, huh? See, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be one of those wham bam thank you ma’am type of deals,” Dean told Gadreel with a meaningful look, smirking. 

He sure didn’t mind a few more nights together. The idea of waking up next to the angel, maybe taking him along for a shower, was awful nice. Dean hadn’t ever been able to have any romantic company over to the Bunker, just motels, and it went without saying that Gadreel deserved to be babied a little. Dean was gonna cuddle him so damn hard. 

Gadreel smiled back at him, coming over to look down at Jack then up to Sam. His eyes moved over Sam’s stomach and his smile faded a little. 

“Perhaps we should have him check our progress anyhow.” 

“He’d probably fall right back asleep afterward if we woke him up for that,” Dean mused, coming over to stand beside Gadreel. He barely resisted the urge to grab the angel’s hand. The butterflies in his stomach were back with a vengeance. Maybe he needed more coffee, Dean thought.

Cas joined them by the counter, placing a hand on Jack’s shoulder and shaking it gently. 

“Jack. Dean and Gadreel are here.”

The Nephilim blinked, first at them and then down at the TopTarts in his hands. 

“Hi…”

“You fell asleep,” Cas told him mildly.

Sitting up, Jack yawned and sat his food aside, nodding a little.

“Yeah… I should check Dean’s sigil.” 

Dean stepped forward, glancing down at his stomach and willing it to stop tingling. Being near Gadreel seemed to be all it took.

Gadreel also stepped forward, watching like he expected Dean’s stomach to glow or something. Which it might. 

“I can see something has changed,” he told Jack, gesturing to Dean. “Do you see them?” 

Dean shifted on his feet, smiling uneasily.

“Uh. ‘Them’?” That was a movie about giant ants, he didn’t want to think about that right now.

Jack sat up, eyes widening as he finally focused on Dean fully. 

“I need to touch the sigil,” he said quickly, waving at Dean. “Pull your shirt up, Dean!”

Dean did so, frowning. 

“What, what is it? You seem surprised, is it bad?” He was pretty damned sure they’d done what they were supposed to do to activate the spell. Hell, they’d done it more than once, just to be sure.

Jack placed a hand on his stomach where he’d drawn the sigil, eyes flaring gold at almost the same time. He smiled.

“You’re right… I can feel them.”

Sam leaned around into his view, squinting at Dean’s stomach like he might see something, too.

“’Them?’”

Cas leaned in, too, eyes widening.

Moving his hand away, Jack sat up in his chair, smiling brightly. He seemed wide awake all of a sudden.

“Baby angels, Sam.” 

Dean looked down at his stomach, which was both fluttering AND tingling at once now.

“The spell must work at different speeds,” Jack continued excitedly. “Dean’s pregnant with twins!”


	17. Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter this week, folks -- whoops! Also, the mental image of Dean and Gadreel with fledgling angel twins was too cute to resist, and [I drew it](http://threshasketch.tumblr.com/post/183642372443/gadreel-and-dean-with-their-fledgling-angel-twins). As always, thank you for reading, commenting, and enjoying our story! ♥

It was hard to focus on shopping when Sam was busy thinking about the sentence ‘Dean is pregnant with twins.’ It wasn’t something he’d EVER thought he’d hear. 

Meandering through the grocery store with a sticky note in hand of what he hoped was a healthy diet, Sam paused to poke at a produce stand labeled Lovely Leafy Greens. 

“No beer,” Sam mumbled over his shoulder at Dean, who had been pushing the cart. It wasn’t everyday they both bothered to go to a real food store. Usually the gas station was good enough for Dean. 

Why hadn’t the spell worked for Sam and Castiel? They had done what they were told to do. Hopefully with their talk that morning, things would go a lot better next time. It was little weird to sleep with Cas and THEN try to build a relationship. That was more Dean’s thing, too. 

“No beer, no booze, no coffee,” Dean replied, leaning to look at the produce stand. He wrinkled his nose. “No whatever that is, either. You know what sounds good?”

Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Let me guess, something greasy and covered in bacon? Dean, we have no idea how our diets are going to affect the kids.” Checking to make sure no one was standing close enough to overhear, he added under his breath, “You’re pregnant. You need to eat REAL food.” Sam plucked a bag of chopped kale off of the pile and held it up for Dean to see, giving him a pointed look. 

“If I eat that my body’s gonna go into shock and die, Sammy,” Dean replied with certainty. “And no, usually I’m a bacon guy, but right now I just want…fruit salad.” He seemed bemused by his own words, but smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “That disgusting soggy stuff with raisins in the bottom, that stuff. You probably know where they keep it.”

Dean had been bouncing between overly chipper and sort of quiet the entire drive to the store. He swore he didn’t feel any different, but this was Dean, he probably wouldn’t mention it if he did.

The possibility of being pregnant with twins couldn’t have ever crossed his mind before this, either.

“I know what you’re talking about, but we’ll probably have to make it,” Sam said with wonder. Dean didn’t want bacon? That answered the question of whether angelic babies on board affected appetite. 

“Uh…okay, sure,” Dean replied awkwardly, looking up and down the aisles. They were around the corner from the produce section of the store. He suddenly looked down at his stomach, putting a hand over it before clearing his throat loudly. “Popsicles. Let’s get popsicles, too.” 

“You okay?” Sam asked gently, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. What kind of complications were they looking at? This spell was made up. Who knew what could happen throughout the ‘pregnancy.’ 

Dean shrugged his hand off, chuckling nervously. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure this’s as normal as a situation like this gets. Feels…fluttery,” he explained, glancing around in case anybody was listening. A few shoppers were giving them sideways looks, but that was it. “I thought it was just Gadreel, y’know, butterflies in your stomach and all that, but he’s not here, so…” 

He shrugged, trailing off.

Sam just nodded, patting Dean’s shoulder and leading the way to the produce aisle. 

“There’s no normal for this situation. If anything weirder happens, let me know, okay?” 

The produce aisle was busy. People were all crowding around, frowning and lost in thought about what to have for dinner. To Sam’s surprise, he spotted the little mixed fruit salad things that Dean had been talking about. At least they wouldn’t have to make them. 

“Hey, cool,” Sam said as he pointed to them. “Now we just need some popsicles.” 

And ground turkey, green beans, salad fixings, a tub of yogurt, some milk… 

Maybe soy milk? 

Dean picked up one of the fruit salad cups, reading the label. He shook his head in wonder. 

“This has mayonnaise in it! In FRUIT. Disgusting,” he grumbled, and piled about eight of them into the cart. “…Pepperoni. We should get some pepperoni. Not pizza, just a big bag of pepperoni.” He held up his hands for emphasis, looking at Sam.

Sam stared at him for a moment, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Seriously? Do you want pickles and ice cream too?” Sam chuckled, snagging a bag of spinach and baby greens and a pack of mushrooms. If the spell actually worked for him too, he was going to try and eat healthier. Not that he didn’t try every day anyway. 

“Sam…” Dean looked around at the crowd of people picking out produce and frowned, shaking his head. “I’m gonna just go look for the pepperoni.” He turned and headed off down the aisle pretty fast without waiting for a reply.

Sam stepped after him, grabbing the cart and pushing it along. 

“Come on. It’s funny,” he called after his brother. “You’ll get to make fun of me, too.” Catching up to Dean, Sam sighed. There was always the chance that the spell wouldn’t work on him. Perhaps his soul was a bit too damaged to create anything, even with all of Jack’s powers. 

Dean glanced over at him, blinking. He offered a guilty little smile and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“It’s not that, Sammy. This’s your plan — I wish it worked just as well for you.” He paused in the aisle and poked at a display endcap full of spicy jalapeno potato chips, sighing. “Hope it keeps working well for me. Gadreel’s lost too many kids already.” 

"It’ll work, and even if it doesn't work for me, we’re still getting two more angels for Heaven.” 

Whatever kids they made would probably be whisked off to Heaven and never seen again anyway, but Sam wisely didn’t share that with Dean. Instead, he continued down the aisles to the dairy section. As expected, there was a display with pepperoni right by the cheeses. Sam added both to the cart. 

“Heaven. Right,” Dean mumbled, turning and looking at the wall of cheese. He picked up some string cheese, wrinkled his nose at it, and put it back. “Speaking of Heaven, sooner or later they’re gonna expect Gadreel to check in with them. They think he’s gonna bring Jack back to them. We should have a plan to handle that.” 

Angels attacking the bunker hadn’t ever happened yet, not a whole group of them. After Gabriel and Asmodeus had visited, the warding hadn’t quite been the same, either.

“I honestly don’t think they have the forces to attack,” Sam told him quietly, watching as a young couple passed them. “If they do, I think between Cas, Gadreel and Jack, we’ve got the high ground.” 

The idea of going into a fight knowing that you had two more lives on the line other than yours was terrifying. If the angels did attack, Sam silently promised himself to get Dean far, far away from there. 

“You think?” Dean turned and started down the ice-cream aisle. He made a beeline for the popsicles, but practically skidded to a stop just before them, frowning at a bag of tiny orange sherbet cups. “…They’re desperate if Jack’s their only option. We better be ready for the worst. And we can’t kill any of them, either, or Heaven drops out of the sky.”

Taking the hint, Sam opened the freezer door and picked out a bag of sherbet cups AND a bag of popsicles. 

“Cas and I will go over the warding when we get home. In the meantime,” Sam said with a smirk, turning to his brother and offering him the sherbet cups. “You should stay off your feet.” 

Dean accepted the bag of ice-cream, looking at it with a fond smile. 

“I feel good, I’m fine,” he insisted, putting the sherbet into the cart. His hands went back over his stomach as he was talking, though. “Did I see you and Cas talking it out in the hallway earlier, or was that just wishful thinking? You know I can still have a chat with him if you want,” he offered, not so subtly trying to change the subject.

“No, no. We talked,” Sam admitted quickly. Examining the popsicles VERY closely, he cleared his throat and added, “We’re good.” 

“Finally,” Dean grumbled. “You guys couldn’t get much more obvious.” He paused, getting a thoughtful look all of a sudden. “Hey, this practically makes Cas my in-law. I guess same deal for you and Gadreel.” He looked at Sam cautiously, like he thought saying that might piss him off. 

They had been so busy, Sam hadn’t given much thought to how he felt about him and Gadreel becoming ‘practically in-laws.’ 

With everything that Sam had done over the last handful of years, it was hard to keep pointing fingers at Gadreel. It caught Sam off guard as he realized that the bitter feeling of betrayal he had always felt about the angel had subsided. Not entirely, but something had changed. Maybe it was the way Gadreel wanted to belong, or maybe it was the way that Cas had faith in him. 

Sam gave Dean a little shrug. 

“I guess it does.”  


* * *

  
With Sam and Dean out and Jack having fallen asleep halfway through the grilled cheese sandwich Castiel had made for him, the bunker was very quiet. Too quiet. Cas found himself making another pot of coffee in the kitchen, even though it was past noon and likely the Winchesters weren’t going to be drinking it in the evening. Well, Sam might.

Sam…

Cas kept going over what he’d said in the hallway, how he’d said it…what he should have said better. 

Words weren’t enough, when it came down to it, to explain how he felt about Sam. It was respect and it was trust, but it was also the light of his soul and the touch of his hands and the way his cheeks dimpled when he really smiled. Cas was filled with both dread and hope for that night. If they weren’t compatible even while being honest with each other, that meant they weren’t compatible at all. 

Making angels was a case to Sam and Dean, but to Cas it really was having a child together — a child that was an angel like him. Already he was doubting he’d be able to willingly hand any child of his over to Naomi, but all of Heaven depended on it, all of the souls… He had to, didn’t he?

It was a great deal to think about at once. It would have been smarter to fill his time with idle talk and to distract himself, but it was quiet in the bunker.

The clinking of glass behind him reminded him that someone else was in the bunker as Gadreel came into the kitchen with a couple of coffee mugs in hand. He sat them neatly on the counter next to the coffee pot, then stood at Castiel’s side to watch as the dark brew began to drip into the pot. 

Gadreel was quiet, also lost in his thoughts. His expression was somber as he watched the coffee, finally glancing at Castiel. 

Cas turned to him, mustering a smile.

“I forgot to congratulate you and Dean earlier. We weren’t even sure we could create one angel, and you’ve made two.” 

Gadreel smiled in return, but it was hollow. 

“A miracle, soon to be two. I must admit, I had my doubts. The spell is an amalgamation of so many. Once again, Jack has left me in awe.” Gadreel adjusted the cups, turning them so that the handles both faced the same direction. “Heaven must never have him.”

“No amount of spellwork could have done this without Jack,” Cas said, looking at the coffee pot and sighing. “And we would die before handing him over to Heaven. They still believe he shouldn’t even exist, like you thought when you first got here.” He focused on Gadreel again, studying his expression. “I once believed that Nephilim must die as well — I even thought I would have to kill Jack’s mother before he could be born.”

“I too have been disillusioned, brother. Thank God that we saw the light,” Gadreel told him as he went to pour himself a cup of coffee. He had been drinking coffee every day since he was allowed out of the dungeon. 

Sitting the other cup in front of Cas, Gadreel crossed the room to take a seat at the kitchen table. “Were it not for the countless souls in need of our aid, I would be tempted to leave Heaven to fend for themselves.”

Picking up the coffee mug, Castiel moved over and sat across from him.

“So would I,” he admitted. “It’s an irony that the ones Heaven has rejected the most are the only ones with enough ability to think for ourselves and solve the problem.” He studied Gadreel’s face again, his eyes, the furrow of his brows. “Both of us have been to the Empty and been spat back out of it, too. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“No,” Gadreel agreed after a moment, frown deepening as he sipped his coffee. “Perhaps God is not entirely unaware of our plight. Though…the Winchesters attract miracles and horrors on their own.” 

The other angel shifted to face him suddenly, straightening up in his seat. The frown faded under a sad smile. 

“Castiel, thank you. If you had not had faith in me, I’m not certain what would have happened after I arrived. To be a father again,” Gadreel’s voice shook, and he took a breath to steady himself. “I had never dreamed it possible.” 

“I don’t think I’m the reason at all,” Cas told him, sitting up a bit too. “Dean let you into the bunker without any explanation for how you were there. He trusted you first. Still…” He glanced down into his black coffee, sighing. “You gave your life to help me, Gadreel — and Heaven, as undeserving as they were. I’ll never forget that.”

“I pray that my children will remember too,” Gadreel whispered, more to himself than Castiel, turning his face away to hide the tears in his eyes.

Cas directed his gaze down to the table. Of course Gadreel was thinking about it too — handing their children over to Heaven. To be programmed into mindless obedience by Naomi, or to be tortured with their inadequacy if they were unable to conform. 

“What if any children of ours share our free will?” He asked softly. “Which are you more afraid of, Gadreel? Them hating you, or Heaven hating them?” 

Cas knew his own answer. How despicable would it be, to create an angel and doom it to the exact cage of order that he himself had fallen so far to escape? 

Gadreel thought it over, then sighed. 

“The answer is irrelevant. They will be born with a purpose…as I was. They are going to save Heaven and all the souls that rest there. They will be heroes to all that know them, no matter what Heaven thinks.” 

“But we’re creating them for that purpose,” Cas told him sadly. “We were made by God to fulfill a purpose, and here we are as individuals with free will, creating people to fulfill that purpose instead of us. We’re God to them.” 

He was beginning to suspect that God had had just as little choice in the matter of making angels to be useful, rather than making them to be individuals pursuing their own happiness. Or did He just care so little for angels, and value His creations on Earth so much more?

“You are thinking of them as your child — do not. If we are truly handing them over to Heaven — which we must — we should keep our distance.” Gadreel looked back at Cas, shaking his head sadly. “I cannot bear the thought of handing my own child over to Heaven. I must keep a distance. I must,” he repeated, abandoning his coffee on the table to rest his head in his hands heavily, tears spilling down his cheeks. 

Cas wanted to cry, too, as the weight of it all finally came to rest on his shoulders.

“We can’t,” he realized aloud softly, stunned at how absolute that conclusion was. “We can’t, Gadreel. Because we can’t see them the way Heaven will, as instruments meant only to be used. They’re going to be PEOPLE — innocent new people who trust us — and we won’t let Heaven anywhere near Jack, but we’ll hand them over?” 

He shook his head, reaching over to grip one of Gadreel’s shoulders tightly. 

“We can’t do this.” 

They’d been so desperate to solve Heaven’s problems that they hadn’t slowed down long enough to consider that they were offering children up like a sacrifice. 

“We can’t do this,” Cas repeated, eyes stinging. “I WON’T do this.”


	18. Soul and Grace

“Okay, slow down, Cas. You what?” Dean held up his hand, glancing between his best friend and Gadreel. The moment Sam and Dean had gotten home, the two angels had sat them down at the kitchen table for a very serious talk. They hadn’t even had time to put the groceries away — the bags were sitting on the end of the table.

“I can’t go through with this plan,” Cas repeated, blue eyes sad as he looked over at Sam. “Heaven will fall if we don’t do something, but this — I-I can’t give my child, your children, to Naomi.”

Right, Naomi. Dean knew that she was the angel currently in charge of Heaven since no archangels were left to reign over it. Cas seemed to have some personal history with her, but he’d never given specifics. She was somehow responsible for Cas trying to kill Dean back when the whole angel tablet thing was going on, but touching the tablet had snapped him out of whatever factory default angel settings she’d activated. 

The fluttery sensation in Dean’s stomach was going for broke since he was near Gadreel again; he rested a hand over it, smiling uneasily at Cas.

“Thought we all agreed there’s no other way. I mean, the kids are gonna be angels, not actual infants, right? Heaven and order and all that, that’s what angels like. No offense, Cas, angels that aren’t you.” 

Gadreel clearly still liked order and honor and being part of a group, right? He’d even assimilated into the household’s morning coffee ritual, despite coffee ‘tasting like molecules’ as Cas put it.

As if on cue, Gadreel sipped his coffee and stood from the table, coming around it to rest a hand on Dean’s back. 

“Castiel wisely pointed out that we will not give Jack to Heaven — why our other children? They will be as new to this world as he is. More so, even. They will be at Heaven’s mercy. Would you truly do that to your child?” 

“Stop,” Sam cut in, shaking his head. “They aren’t our kids. Not really. Jack’s manipulating grace and souls to make them. We can’t go into this thinking of them as our kids.” 

Cas opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again, brows furrowing as he focused on his coffee.

“No angel child would be born like a human one,” he pointed out quietly. “We’re still creating them, Sam. We’re still their parents.”

The fluttering in Dean’s stomach was joined by tingling — was it Gadreel being right there, or were the twin angels trying to join in the conversation, too? Dean had trouble thinking of them as actual babies yet. They were a presence, something definitely different than normal, but… 

Were the brothers having an easier time staying detached because the babies weren’t human? Neither were Castiel, Gadreel, or Jack.

“Huh,” Dean said, looking up at Gadreel thoughtfully. “Sammy, they’ve kind of got a point. Jack’s our kid, right? We all know that’s the truth. And you can’t get much more unconventional than how HE was born, so how come the grace and soul method makes these babies less ours?”

Sam sank down in his chair with a frown. 

“I…I knew this would happen. We all knew the plan was to give the babies to Heaven. No one was supposed to be get attached to them.” 

“They are our children, Sam,” Gadreel said as he leaned closer to kiss Dean’s cheek. He stepped away to place a hand on Sam’s back instead, looking the other brother in the eye. “Of all of us, how did you expect not to love them?” 

Shrugging him off, Sam pushed back his chair and paced away to put some space between him and Gadreel, crossing his arms. 

“So what, then? We let Heaven’s lights go out and leave BILLIONS of souls left in limbo forever? No. I can’t do that. Dad’s up there. So is Charlie — and Kevin.” Sam glared at Gadreel pointedly. 

Cas got up and stepped after Sam. 

“I know we have to do something about Heaven, but this…” He shook his head. “Sam. They’re not going to be typical angels — they probably won’t know how to function like the rest of us did from birth. And if they don’t, Naomi will TORTURE them to reprogram them into submission.” 

Dean hugged both arms around his middle — either he didn’t like Cas’s knowing tone of voice, or the babies didn’t, because the tingling was a little more needly all of a sudden. That meant to get Cas to try to kill him, to activate ‘angel factory default’, Naomi must have…

“If I won’t allow Heaven to do that to me anymore, then how can I send my newborn child to that fate?” Cas asked Sam.

“Cas, I don’t think you and I…” Sam trailed off, chewing his lip nervously as he turned to look down at Cas. “This was our best shot at fixing Heaven. That’s the only reason Dean and I were going along with it. But we aren’t actually helping Heaven with it, we s-shouldn’t make any more angels. We should focus on coming up with another solution.” 

‘Hurt’ was the only way to describe the look on Cas’s face at that. He ducked his head, shoulders slumping in defeat. 

“Fixing Heaven is the only reason YOU’RE going along with it,” he said softly. “I-I’m sorry. I must have misunderstood you before.” Dean blinked and the angel had vanished with the rustle of feathers. 

Sam immediately teared up too, ducking away from the table and making a beeline out of the room. Gadreel watched him go sadly, turning to Dean once Sam had disappeared into the hallway. 

“We should not abandon this plan, we must simply change it. Perhaps we could use a spell or device to connect Heaven to our children remotely. I must speak with Sam,” he added quickly, starting off after Sammy. 

Dean listened to the hurried footsteps retreating down the hallway and sighed slowly. The twins had toned their fluttery ‘kicking’ down to what seemed to be the usual amount again, and he gave his stomach a pat. 

“Never a dull moment, right kids?” He shook his head, pulling the grocery bags closer and fishing out one of the fruit salad cups. He knew Sam had a thing for Cas beyond ‘let’s hop in bed together to fix Heaven’, but Cas didn’t seem to realize it. Hopefully Sam would find him and clear that up sooner rather than later.  


* * *

  
Sam slammed the door to his room and leaned against it, squeezing his eyes shut to pray.

“Cas, please. Let me explain.”

A voice outside of the door interrupted his attempts to reach Cas. 

“Sam? Please. Do not give up hope. We are in a position to bargain with Heaven. Perhaps we can ensure better treatment of our children?” Gadreel knocked lightly. “Sam?” 

“Please leave me alone. J-just go take care of Dean,” Sam told him through the door, clicking the lock in place. 

It wasn’t like it would stop Gadreel from flying into the room, but maybe he’d take the hint and leave. After a few seconds, Sam heard the angel fly away. 

“Cas, please,” Sam pleaded, leaning on the door again. His eyes were blurry with tears. Having a baby with Cas had sounded wonderful. They should have seen results by now, though. Something. 

Sam hadn’t noticed it before, but he actually felt weaker since the spell. Like something was knotted in his stomach. 

What if his soul was too damaged? Or there was somehow some of Lucifer’s grace inside of him, and any baby wasn’t going to be Castiel’s? They were extremely lucky that Jack was such a wonderful person. They might not have that luck if they spawned another child from the Devil. 

Covering his face with his hands, Sam gave in and let himself cry. 

The soft rustling of feathers drifted to him, along with a waft of moving air in his closed off room. For a split second Sam thought Gadreel had come right back, but the voice he heard next was definitely Cas.

“I thought you wanted for us to…to be together for more than Heaven’s sake.” He sounded so hurt and defeated.

Lifting his hands to peek at the angel, Sam nodded shakily. 

“Of course I do. I told you that I love you, Cas. But, we c-can’t have a baby. I-I can’t. I literally can’t. The spell should have worked for us, but it didn’t. My soul is too messed up,” he told Cas, trying not to look him in the eye. He sniffed and shook his head. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Sam…” Cas stepped closer. “That’s not true, Sam. Jack felt grace, the spell IS gathering grace. Even if it wasn’t, it doesn’t matter — I loved you for years before we even thought of this plan.” 

Sam felt the angel’s hands rest on his face, cradling it and caressing his jaw with both thumbs. 

“When you said that you and I shouldn’t…because of Heaven, I thought you meant we shouldn’t be together at all,” he added, choked. “And I ran away again. I’m sorry.”

“I want to be with you forever.” Sam gathered Cas in his arms and kissed him gently. “It’s not just the damage to my soul that I’m worried about. When Lucifer tortured me…” 

The memories made Sam shiver. Explaining what happened felt impossible when he was looking down into Cas’ beautiful blue eyes feeling loved and safe. It was years ago. It probably wasn’t important anymore, and he was just worrying about stupid things. Sam tried to swallow the lump in his throat and continue.

“I-I’m just scared. If these angel kids are born as actual babies, we’re going to have our hands full.” 

Castiel looked pained at mention of the children, blue eyes flicking down and away from Sam’s gaze. 

“We’ve done the impossible — we’ve created angels without God. If we can do that, there must be a way we can save Heaven besides sacrificing any child to Naomi,” he said softly. “You don’t understand about her, Sam. She’ll break them. She broke me, and they have no defenses like I did, they’re new, trusting. How can we even consider it?”

Gently taking Castiel’s chin in his hand, Sam tried to catch his gaze. 

“We won’t. You guys are right. Dean and I were just looking at the end results. I’m sorry, Cas. I’ll never let Heaven hurt our kids…or you,” he added more confidently. 

Looking up at him, Cas seemed to lose the tension in his expression — it softened into a grateful gaze. He nodded a little, moving closer to hug Sam and rest his head on the hunter’s shoulder. It reminded Sam of their conversation in the hallway before. 

“We can’t give up now. Heaven still needs help,” Castiel murmured. “And you…you and I, I still believe that we can outshine God as long as we’re together.”

“I think so too.” Sam ran his hands over Cas’s back, remembering the beautiful black wings that were hidden there. He had to wonder if the babies would have wings right away or only once they were full fledged angels in Heaven. 

“Well, I already locked the door,” Sam quipped, trying to lighten the mood. 

Cas didn’t find it so funny. What he did do was sit up just enough to pull Sam down for an almost desperate kiss, then another. 

Sam didn’t take much convincing that Heaven could wait a little longer.


	19. Dreams

“Pass me that cloth, would you?” 

Dean waved in the general direction of it, figuring Gadreel would get the idea. It had taken two fruit salad cups for the angel to come back from trying to talk to Sam (who was apparently staying in his room for now) and two more for Dean to decide he couldn’t stand to hold still a minute longer. Thus he’d gone to wash and wax the Impala, even though she was still pretty shiny since they hadn’t been driving a whole lot this week. Gadreel had trailed after him, and Dean was glad for the company.

He was worried about Sam, he felt bad for Cas, and now that he’d considered the idea that the angel babies might actually not want to be in Heaven by default, Dean was worried about them, too. Gadreel had looked miserable at the thought of the children being handed over to Naomi. His idea about powering Heaven long-distance with them was a creative one, but that was supposed to be impossible. 

Then again, so was a human dude being pregnant with little celestial wavelength babies, or anybody but Chuck being able to make those babies, for that matter…

Or coming back from the Empty. Dean stopped and considered Gadreel uneasily. Cas had come back and remained back, but suddenly Dean was worried about what would happen if Gadreel somehow got pulled back into the Empty. Could that happen? Dean had no way of trying to even bargain him back from such a thing. That was terrifying.

Gadreel was studying him, too, toying with the cloth absentmindedly while his eyes were unfocused looking at Dean’s soul. 

Then Gadreel smiled, holding the cloth out to Dean. 

“Twins,” the angel said wistfully. “They are already beautiful.” 

For some reason, that made Dean blush. He took the cloth, smiling sheepishly and trying to ignore the way his face felt hot. 

“I can only feel ‘em,” he said, going over Baby’s hood with the cloth in gentle circles. “What do they look like?”

“My words fail me, I’m afraid, but I have never seen something so wonderful in my life. Besides you,” Gadreel added, stepping up behind Dean and slipping his arms around him. “I cannot wait to hold them and tell them tales.” 

Holding — Gadreel was good at that. Dean abandoned the cloth and sat up to lean against the angel’s chest, sighing slowly. 

Gadreel was also, he was discovering, quite the romantic guy. Dean never would have called that as a thing he’d enjoy, but boy was he wrong. The angel’s words made his knees feel a little weak. Considering the fact he had no idea what Gadreel’s plans were after this Heaven deal was sealed, and they had never actually officially become a couple, that was a little scary.

“Hey…about us,” he said quietly, looking down at the Impala’s glossy hood. He and Gadreel were reflected in it, him wrapped in the angel’s arms. He was kind of glad he wasn’t looking Gadreel in the eye for this question. “Um. IS there an ‘us’?”

Gadreel was quite for a moment, resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder. 

“…Only if that is what you desire. Castiel told me that you weren’t keen on lasting relationships. I prayed that he was wrong.” 

Dean was quiet for a long moment, biting his lip. First Sam said he wouldn’t want to carry any angel babies, and then Cas said he wasn’t the settling type. Cas was a literal kind of guy, Sam was thinking of Dean’s comfort zones, and both had had plenty of examples to back up what they were saying, but it still kind of stung. 

Dean wanted lots of things he never told anybody about. A lasting relationship was one of those things. He’d always just written it off as a stupid dream because, A, was sure he’d never find somebody in the hunter life, and B, he’d always figured he’d die young. And he wasn’t wrong about that second one, but he and Gadreel had both come back from the dead at one time or another, and here they were anyway.

Carefully, Dean tugged at Gadreel’s hands enough to loosen his grip, turning around in his arms to face him.

“I know this’s weird with all the past problems and stuff,” he said, resting his forehead against the angel’s. He moved a hand up to rest gently on the side of the taller man’s neck. “And I know human lives are like a heartbeat for you guys, here and gone just like that. I’m no good at relationships, that’s true. Could be the whole…baby…thing talkin’, but I don’t care about all that stuff.” 

He chanced a look up to catch Gadreel’s eyes, and he felt a bit hoarse as he admitted, “I want you. Want you here, want you with me.”

Gadreel moved to kiss Dean’s cheek slowly, lingering there just long enough to whisper to him. 

“Then, I am yours.” When the angel sat back, he was smiling, tears glinting in his blue eyes. “On Earth, in Heaven or burning in Hell, I shall never leave your side.” 

Dean ducked his head and just nodded, blinking back a few tears of his own. So Gadreel did want to stay together — wanted Dean, beyond just this plan and saving Heaven. He’d been nothing but kind and attentive since they got into this mess together, but Dean’s mind could always twist that without talking about it directly. 

Earth, Heaven or Hell was a pretty big declaration. Dean wondered if someday when he was dead Gadreel would visit him in whichever of those afterlives he wound up in for good. Hell was no place for an angel…

“Where’s Sam?” Jack’s voice from the door to the garage almost made Dean flinch. Right, right, it wasn’t just him and Gadreel alone in here.

Gadreel instantly regained his composure, smiling and turning to greet Jack. 

“Hello, little one. Sam needs some time to think. He asked me to take care of Dean. Would you help me? Dean needs a great deal of food to keep up his strength.” 

Right then, Dean was glad Jack was just as literal as Cas. When he turned misty eyes on the kid, Jack’s brow furrowed like Dean might actually be teary-eyed because he was so hungry.

“Of course,” The Nephilim said seriously, brightening. He hurried over and patted Dean’s shoulder gently. “It’s okay, Dean, I’ll share my stash with you!”

Sniffing a tiny bit, Dean mustered a smile for his benefit. 

Gadreel was so different than he remembered, so much more wonderful. Was the Mark coloring his view that much at the time? Although, the first words the angel had ever spoken around him were still in line with his behavior now — _“Are we creatures of wrath or compassion? I would argue the latter.”_

“You have a stash?” Dean asked Jack, letting him and Gadreel lead the way toward the hallway, and presumably also the kitchen. 

Jack nodded immediately.

“Yes. I even have…” He lowered his voice like he was speaking of illegal contraband. “…Dippin’ Spots.”

Dean’s brows rose. Hiding that from Sam in the freezer WAS impressive.

“Shh, lower your voice,” Gadreel mock whispered, glancing up and down the hallway while he played along with Jack. “Sam was quite angry when I brought home a carton of ‘chocolate fudge and cookie’ ice cream yesterday. He warned me not to do it again. If he hears us…” He gave Jack a very serious look and shook his head. 

“We should be using code words,” Jack declared grimly.

Dean made a little snort of laughter at that. 

“Okay, here’s the deal,” he whispered to the angel and Nephilim, glancing between them. “We’ll use vegetables. Say ‘celery’ for chocolate. Ice-cream is ‘kale’ and cookies can be…um…‘carrots’. Anything else, say ‘Brussels sprouts.’” 

Jack made a very solemn face as he processed that.

“Don’t worry, Dean,” he said after a moment. “I have enough Brussels sprouts for everyone.”  


* * *

  
Sam cringed as he heard voices coming from the kitchen. He had really hoped that after being gone most of the day he would be able to sneak back in undetected before dinner. 

Spending all day with Cas had been nice, but now Sam couldn’t shake off all the worries he had had before. Lucifer’s grace still being in his body was his first concern, but disappointing Cas was now a close second. 

The chance to have a baby with the MAN he loved would only come once in a lifetime. Sure, getting ‘pregnant’ was bizarre and nothing Sam ever thought he’d do, but he had realized by now that he’d love to have a kid. 

It had always been part of that stupid mundane dream of his. The nice house, married to a loving partner, with a kid and a dog thing. It had seemed absolutely impossible a few days ago. Now most of it still seemed impossible, but the kid and loving partner part, well…

Sam smiled at the fresh memories of lazing in bed, holding Cas. Things were still a bit awkward with the current arrangement, though it was only temporary. 

Straightening his back, Sam strolled down the steps into the kitchen, waving to Dean and the others and making a beeline for the coffee pot. Late for caffeine or not, the afternoon had taken a lot out of him. 

There was no coffee in the coffee pot.

Not only that, but Sam was pretty sure the bright colors on the kitchen table had been wrappers for…tie dye snack cakes? Those dirt cheap Bitty Betty brand ones, the absolute garbage-for-you junk food ones Sam could feel the bad cholesterol radiating from when he passed them at the food mart. Had Dean sneaked them into the groceries somehow on their snack run?

“Where’s Castiel?” Jack asked nervously from just behind Sam. 

Plucking one of the wrappers off of the counter, Sam turned to him. 

“I think he’s in his room. What’s this?” 

“Um…Brussels sprouts?” Jack said in a small voice, looking like a deer in the headlights.

Sam held the wrapper up, looking from Jack to Dean. 

“Come on. If anything can harm a baby, it’s this crap. There’s enough dye in here to give you cancer!” 

“Well you sound like your old self again,” Dean told Sam, rather than actually reply to anything he’d said about the junk food. He looked at Sam with thinly-disguised worry as he said it, though, clearly remembering how their last conversation had ended.

Since Sam wasn’t actually mad, he just shook his head and tossed the wrapper in the trash. On his way to sit with Dean, he patted Jack’s back to reassure the kid. It wasn’t like he could even get cancer. 

Joining his brother at the table, Sam sighed. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“I’m good,” Dean replied, sounding like he actually meant it for once. He glanced over at Gadreel, who was sitting in the chair beside his, and Sam could swear he blushed a little bit. Dean cleared his throat, nodding. “Yeah, I’m good.” He sat up, studying Sam’s expression carefully. “…Hey, Jack, you remember how to use the coffee pot?”

“Yes,” Jack replied immediately, glancing between him and Sam. He still looked a little worried Sam was mad at him for the junk food, which probably meant the snack cakes were his and not Dean’s originally. 

Dean smiled at the kid. 

“Why don’t you put a pot on? I can’t drink it, but Sam could, and Gadreel and Cas might like some.”

Jack gave a quick, serious nod and headed straight over to the coffee pot. Gadreel followed him, possibly curious how the coffee was made.

One perk of not being magically pregnant was still being able to drink coffee, Sam thought sadly, watching Jack pour coffee grounds painstakingly into the filter.

A shot of whiskey in his coffee didn’t sound half bad. It had been a hell of a week.


	20. Old Wounds

Dean placed a hand on Sam’s arm, drawing his attention back to the present.

“You know Cas actually has a thing for you, right?” He asked quietly, brows pinched. “I don’t mean a little crush, Sammy, I mean he’s a goner — told me years ago, made me promise not to tell you.” 

Between Sam showing up alone looking so tired and how they’d left off last, Dean probably thought Sam and Cas hadn’t spoken to each other since.

“Uh,” Sam blushed and dropped his eyes to the floor. “Don’t worry about it. We talked.” He cleared his throat and tried to communicate with his eyes what he meant by that. It wasn’t like it was some huge secret that everyone in the bunker was getting it on, it was just weird to discuss it with Dean when they had both been friends with Cas for years. Sam tilted his head and frowned. “He told you he liked me?” 

Letting go of Sam’s arm, Dean sighed and rested a hand over his own stomach instead. 

“Yeah, he sorta thought he was gonna be stuck in Purgatory forever at the time,” he explained. “Stuck with me, and…and away from you.” 

Purgatory? That was five or six years ago, and Cas spent a long time before that basically insane from taking on Sam’s memories of Hell. 

“Was a long time ago,” Dean added, smiling to try and lighten up. “Just tell me you talked about more than this Heaven-saving plan.”

Sam frowned, bothered by the idea that both Dean and Cas hid that from him for so long. That they felt like they HAD to hide it from him. Then again, who was he to point fingers? Too bad he and Cas hadn’t discussed their feelings earlier. 

“We talked about a lot of things,” he said at long last, smiling to himself. His stomach actually felt a little fluttery at the idea that Cas and him were now an item. 

Really fluttery. Focusing on it, Sam suddenly realized what it might be. It was weak, but there was something there with him. A presence. Small and shy at the edge of his senses. 

Noticing the change in his expression, Dean leaned to try and catch his gaze.

“What?” He asked, suddenly serious again. “You okay?”

The presence shifted, becoming painful for a moment before returning to that soft shyness. Sam took a breath and swallowed down his fear, managing not to cringe as the pain returned again. 

Resisting the urge to rest a hand over the spot where Jack had drawn the symbols, Sam turned to look at his brother. 

“I don’t think so.”  


* * *

  
“You said this would be safe,” Dean repeated, running a hand over his face. He’d stopped pacing when Castiel showed up, and was leaning on the counter now, watching as Jack held a careful hand over Sam’s stomach. The Nephilim’s eyes were glowing their bright gold, and he was staring into nothing and (hopefully) didn’t hear Dean. 

“The spell is,” Cas said heavily, squeezing the hand of Sam’s that he held. “But it’s powered by souls, and Sam’s soul is…it’s been through a lot.” He looked at Sam like it broke his heart to even say it.

Sam breathed slowly as the pain in his abdomen became sharper at Jack being near. 

What if after everything — after finally succeeding in spawning an angel — his soul was too weak to support it? 

Putting a shaky hand to his head, Sam felt woozy. What if they died? What if just the baby died? Tears stung at his eyes and he could taste copper as the pain dug deeper. It snapped like a rubber band and all he could feel was the terrified presence in him — reaching out to him for reassurance. 

Sam squeezed Cas’s hand, leaning closer to press it to his cheek. Maybe the baby could feel the comfort from Cas instead of Sam. 

Cas moved closer. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he touched Sam’s face gently and Sam felt cool mist-like grace flowing from the hand into his skin. Cas’s eyes glowed brightly in the moment before he closed them, furrowing his brows. 

“Jack,” he said in a carefully calm tone, “What do you see?”

The Nephilim sat up, the gold light in his eyes abruptly dying down to blue. He blinked a few times, looking at Sam worriedly. 

“The spell’s working,” he began. “I mean…there’s an angel here, but it’s STILL working.”

Dean moved closer, arms hugged around his stomach. 

“That’s not good.”

“What do you mean?” Sam managed, a dribble of blood landing on his shirt as he coughed. The presence, momentarily calmed by Cas’s healing, flew into a panic. Sam wrapped his arm around his stomach and leaned over, murmuring to himself in the hopes that the baby could hear him. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.” 

He felt Cas’s hand go to rest on his back, the other moving to rest on his stomach now that Jack was no longer examining there. The soothing pooling of grace seeped into Sam’s skin from both of the angel’s hands, and Cas sighed softly against his shoulder. 

“We’ve both got you,” he murmured.

“Jack,” Dean said urgently, “How do we fix it?” Cas and Sam had written most of this spell — did Jack even know?

“The sigil makes angels from grace and soul power,” the kid replied seriously. “It made an angel, it should’ve already stopped.”

“So what happens if we take the sigil off of him?” Dean asked. Sam thought he heard a wince after the question.

“No, we can’t do that!” Jack sounded horrified he’d even suggest it. “The angel’s too young to hold together without it, i-it needs to stay near Sam’s soul for the power, to grow…”

Hugging an arm around Cas, Sam stared down at the hand on his stomach. 

“W-we can’t do that, Dean,” Sam told him painfully. “It’ll kill the baby.” 

“But if we do not, you may both die,” Gadreel said sadly, stepping up to peer over Jack’s shoulder. “Perhaps we should attempt to make it a body?”

“Or move it to me,” Dean said, sounding a little desperate. “I-I’ve got the same sigil, right? And we know two babies onboard works, so—”

“They’re drawing on your SOUL, Dean,” Jack replied. He sounded kind of far away to Sam; Cas had slipped an arm around Sam’s waist, both hands now on his stomach, the soft mist of grace falling over Sam’s whole torso now. “It could hurt you, or put the other babies in danger.”

Barely hearing their words, Sam turned and huddled closer to Cas, pressing his face against the angel’s shoulder. 

The pain subsided again and he could feel the little angel there, scared and clinging to him. 

“We can do this,” Sam mumbled, placing his hands over Cas’s. “I’ll be alright.” 

Cas rested his cheek against Sam’s hair. 

“Sam,” Dean said, and Sam felt a hand touch his back, patting gently. “You’re bleeding. We’ve gotta fix this.”

“Maybe it’s not the sigil,” Jack said sadly. “Maybe your soul is just…it’s so damaged that it just hurts for the baby to be near it.” Sam remembered the last time Cas tested the state of his soul — by touching it. Even a few seconds of that was agony. He could only imagine how much that would terrify the little angel riding shotgun.

Sam sniffed, tears running down his cheeks. He had already known that this would happen. It was exactly like he had feared — his soul was too far gone. 

“Then what can we do?” Sam heard Gadreel ask. The sadness in his voice was clear, but he hadn’t seemed surprised at the situation. Maybe he knew Sam’s soul was broken, too. 

Cas moved one hand to cradle Sam’s head, resting protective over his hair. 

“You’re strong, Sam,” he murmured, grace still flowing from his other hand. “Your soul is strong enough to make an angel, and it’s strong enough for this. Gadreel,” he added as steadily as he could, “Help Jack with the sigil. Something’s wrong, it shouldn’t still be drawing.”

“I-I did it the same as Dean’s,” Jack insisted, “It should work the same, but it’s NOT.”

Dean hopped up from Sam’s side.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Sam needs our help, Jack. Could we maybe modify it without taking it off him?”

“We made it up,” Jack said, upset. “I don’t know what that’ll do to them.”

“Well we’ve gotta do something!” Dean said.

“Perhaps not,” Gadreel’s voice cut through, as the angel knelt in front of Sam, examining his soul more closely. “Though painful, I believe the spell is working as it should. The difference is simply his soul. We should start working on creating vessels. The sooner we remove the child from Sam, the sooner the pain will cease.”

“Then what changed?” Dean asked. “Unless you guys did more than talk it out, there’s no reason the sigil should even be drawing right now!”

Cas held Sam a little tighter.

“We did,” he said, deadpan. “Do more than talk, I mean. We, uh…” 

“Oookay, I get it,” Dean replied hastily, sounding sheepish now along with concerned. “So…you think this’s how it’s supposed to work?”

“The sigil’s identical to yours,” Jack said sadly. “I’m sorry, Sam, I don’t think I messed it up, but if I did…”

“You didn’t,” Cas sighed. “It’s clearly working — Sam is carrying a child now.”

“Then we should all rest, especially you, Jack. We will need you to be at your best before we try to create vessels.” Gadreel put a hand on Jack’s shoulder to guide him away. “Would you like something before bed? Perhaps warm milk?” 

Sam looked after them sadly. Jack was going to blame himself no matter what they told him. 

“Cas, can you take me to my room?” Sam asked miserably, snuggling down into the angel’s arm. The presence was shifting again, into a sharp pain at his core. Hopefully Jack was right and the baby wasn’t causing any damage, just scraping against old wounds. 

“Whoa, hold it,” Dean said, hurrying back over to stand near Sam and Cas. “We’re sure this isn’t doing damage? There’s blood on your mouth, Sammy.”

“I’ve healed him,” Castiel assured Dean, running a hand softly down Sam’s back. “And I’m not going to leave him alone, Dean.” As steady as the words were, he was still holding Sam very close. “Take care of Jack — I’ll take care of Sam.” 

Before Dean could reply, Sam felt a whoosh of air and heard the angel’s wings beating through the air. Abruptly, they landed on a soft surface — the bed in Sam’s room.

Sam immediately turned and crawled under the covers, burying his face in his pillow and taking breaths to try and ease through the pain radiating over him. He reached a hand out for Cas, biting his lip. 

“C-can you make me sleep? Please.”

The angel sat on the edge of the bed, taking his hand and squeezing it tight. The last time they had been together in this bed, everything was fine, everything seemed like it would turn out okay after all. They’d actually believed that.

The little angelic presence Sam felt was most definitely a consciousness already — it felt fear and pain, and it could be reassured. This wasn’t just making a thing to fulfill the plan, this was…it really was their child. 

“Yes,” Cas whispered after a moment’s hesitation, and Sam felt a light touch to the back of his head. “It’s alright now…rest.”

Sam was asleep before he could even think a reply.


	21. Strength

Castiel sat quietly with Sam for awhile, sometimes carding fingers gently through his hair, sometimes running a hand up and down his back. The brunette was blissfully asleep and no longer in pain for the moment, but Cas felt awful enough about the suffering that had already happened. 

He’d thought about the damage to Sam’s soul when they first came up with this plan, but damaged or not, the soul was intact. It didn’t glow as brightly as it did before Lucifer and Hell, but it was still at full power, still beautiful to Cas. It was what made Sam himself.

And clearly it had the power to help create an angel. An innocent new life — one that was uniquely made of both Sam and Castiel. Cas had felt the presence of the baby’s mind when he laid hands on Sam, and the possibility that he might have to choose between their lives made him sick.

A knock on the door made Cas flinch. He looked up just in time to see Dean opening the door a crack, peering inside.

“Sammy…?”

“He’s sleeping,” Cas explained quietly, waving for him to come in. Dean opened the door wider, waiting for Gadreel to step in first.

Castiel’s brother came into the room and stopped near the bed, casting a troubled look down at Sam. Gadreel was certainly looking at Sam’s soul while shaking his head.

“How is he?”

Dean quickly moved over to stand beside Gadreel, also looking at Sam sadly.

Cas tucked the blanket up over Sam’s back a little higher and stood, turning to face them.

“He was in so much pain that he asked me to help him sleep,” he said softly. “Where is Jack?”

“We convinced him to rest up to get ready to make vessels,” Dean said uneasily, glancing back at the door. “Why, does he need to do something for Sam? We could wake him back up—”

“No,” Cas cut him off, raising a hand. “No, let them both sleep.” He sighed.

Sam stirred in his sleep, wrapping his arms up around his body protectively. His hair was hanging over his face, but Cas still saw the faintest grimace pulling at the brunette’s mouth. 

“Castiel, may I speak with you?” Gadreel asked quietly. 

Cas touched Sam’s forehead, willing the pain away again with a little bit more grace. He stood and nodded, but was reluctant to leave the brunette’s side. 

Dean came over and sat on the edge of the bed, patting his brother’s back lightly. 

“I’ll stay with him,” he assured Cas, meeting his eyes. Castiel could tell that was a meaningful look — Dean wanted him to talk to Gadreel as much as Gadreel did. 

“Okay,” he told the other angel quietly. 

Stepping back out into the hallway, Gadreel tucked his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and waited for Castiel to close the door behind him before he spoke. 

“Sam cannot keep going with this.”

Cas turned sad eyes to the floor, feeling his brows furrow low. 

“If we try to separate the child from him right now, it won’t survive,” he said softly. “I could feel it, Gadreel — the baby is aware, and frightened. Its first memories are of pain and fear…” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. They were already failing this new angel, and it hadn’t even been born yet.

“I understand the consequences. I just want you to be aware that it may cost both Sam and your child their lives. Not just Sam’s mortal one, either — the life of his eternal soul!” Gadreel told him under his breath. Maybe he was keeping his voice down so that Dean didn’t hear that comment.

Cas looked off down the hallway distantly, a little ache starting in his chest.

“Sam said he didn’t think it was possible,” he whispered. “He thought his soul was too damaged. And I assured him that the spell was gathering grace, so it was possible, we could…” He rested a hand on his forehead to shade his eyes, tears stinging them. “This is my fault.”

“No, Castiel, it is not.” Gadreel’s voice softened as he placed both his hands on the shorter angel’s shoulders. “I am sorry. I understand this is difficult. Forgive me, brother.” Arms wrapped around Cas and a strong hand patted his back. 

Cas drew a shaky breath and patted Gadreel’s back in return. He wasn’t used to other angels considering him family anymore, hadn’t been for years. If anyone could understand how painful losing either Sam or the baby would be, it was Gadreel, who’d lost Nephilim children and the mothers who had died giving birth to them. It didn’t make this situation now any easier, though, feeling understood.

Sitting back, Cas shook his head. Despair wouldn’t help Sam and the baby. They needed a plan.

“This whole plan was Sam’s idea originally. I-I know he wanted to do it,” he admitted. “But I won’t sacrifice children to torture to save Heaven, and I won’t sacrifice Sam’s life either. There must be a way to fix this. What can we do besides remove the sigil?”

“I…do not know,” Gadreel admitted, staying at Castiel’s side. “The only chance I see is to make the vessel and transfer the child as soon as possible. If only it had been you to carry the child.” Gadreel shook his head. 

“If that had been possible, I gladly would have done it,” Cas sighed, looking at him defeatedly. “The sigil gathers grace, so it can’t be on angels or on Jack — it wouldn’t stop draining our grace until it was gone.” 

The method of making the babies required small, gradual amounts of grace being near the sigil while it was already close to a human soul, and Castiel had no soul, either. The spell was tailored to grow the angels within a human ‘parent vessel’ and that was the only way that it worked.

“The children won’t know how to ask a vessel for consent, either,” Cas added. “Jack will have to drag them from one vessel to the other, and if they aren’t strong enough by then it might kill them.”

“If this child is truly made from Sam and yourself, you must have faith in their strength. If we wait much longer, we may lose both. Jack must start working on the vessels. I will help heal Sam until then,” Gadreel told him.

“Sam is one of the strongest people I’ve ever known,” Cas said sincerely. “But this child — the spell worked slowly, giving it less grace. OUR spell, for our plan. We created a life for our own means, and it’s a miracle that it worked at all — how can we place the responsibility to be strong and survive on a baby? It deserves to live just as much, even if it’s weak and scared!”

If their actions would kill the baby, he was sure that Sam wouldn’t allow it. And Castiel didn’t want to allow it, either. But, to lose them both… Castiel couldn’t describe the thought of losing Sam, and that wasn’t even taking into account how devastated Dean would be.

“Another sigil,” he said, choked. “W-we can’t change the one on him, but maybe add another, one that overrides the first.”

Gadreel responded immediately.

“I shall be in the library. Sam’s notes and his computer are there. If you need me at all, I shall return in an instant.”

Cas would have argued that Gadreel didn’t know his way around the bunker or computer as well as Cas might, but he wanted to be by Sam’s side as soon as he could be. If this plan didn’t work, this might be the only time Cas had with their child at all. His heart was breaking, but he just nodded to Gadreel and murmured a thank you. 

This plan’s steps all hinged on Jack’s powers doing the impossible, and doing things he’d never tried before. If the second sigil idea failed, and they had to separate the child from Sam, there was another much bigger concern than pain: what if Jack couldn’t make the baby vessels?  


* * *

  
Sleeping deeply wasn’t something that Sam did a lot of lately. His mind was groggy as the world faded back in around him. The presence within him felt calm now. Peaceful. 

“Cas?” Sam mumbled. 

“Sammy!” It was Dean sitting beside him, leaning to brush the hair back from his forehead and smiling with barely-disguised worry. “There he is. How you feeling?”

“Dean,” Sam said hazily, reaching a hand out to rest on his brother’s arm. “What happened? Where’s Cas?” 

Sam lay his other hand over his abdomen and he could sense that the presence was trying to reach for him, too. 

“He’s with Gadreel and Jack,” Dean explained, patting a hand over Sam’s on his arm. “They’re getting the stuff together to make vessels, but it’s gonna take awhile.” His green eyes trailed down to Sam’s stomach, the unspoken question hovering in the air — was Sam still in pain? “How’s Junior?”

Sam hesitated, focusing on the baby. 

“I think he’s asleep,” Sam almost whispered. Angels didn’t sleep, though, so the baby was probably just relieved not to be in pain. Sam looked up at his brother. “How about you?” 

“Oh, uh…” Dean sat up, looking down at himself and resting a hand on his stomach. He smiled guiltily. “I’m good, so good I feel bad about it, actually. You don’t deserve this crap.” 

He sighed, drawing the blanket down enough to show Sam’s chest. Graceful Enochian curved almost around the black anti-possession tattoo over Sam’s heart. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t read it. It also appeared to be written with some sort of translucent blue ink.

“Jack was right not to mess with the original sigil, but Cas got the idea to put another one on, so…yeah,” Dean explained, looking Sam in the eyes again. “‘Til the vessels are ready, hopefully this keeps the worst pains at bay. You hurt at all right now?” 

Sam ran a hand through his hair, shifting to sit up next to Dean. The sharp pain was gone, replaced by the calm, quiet presence. 

“Not at the moment. I feel a lot better.” Sam tugged at the collar of his shirt to get a better look at the swirling blue writing. “This isn’t going to hurt the baby, right?” 

Dean glanced down at the sigil and then smiled at him. 

“Cas wouldn’t let us even consider anything that would. He didn’t wanna give up on either of you.”

Give up on them? Had things really been that bad? 

The baby’s mood changed suddenly and Sam felt his throat tighten at the realization. The angelic presence was happy. It was hard to think of what might have happened if the others hadn’t helped him as quickly as they had. Sam glanced at Dean and smiled, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“The baby’s feeling better. I think we’re gonna be okay.” 

Dean nodded a little, looking from his face to his stomach and back. After a moment he gave up playing it cool, leaning in and hugging Sam.

“So now we’ve both got babies on board. Congratulations, Sammy. This has gotta be near the top of the weird list,” Dean mumbled, patting his back.

Surprised by getting a hug from Dean, Sam took the opportunity to hug him back. It was hard to scare Dean. Sam felt bad for causing so much trouble. This whole crazy plan was his idea, and now Dean was caught up in it as much as he was. 

“Thanks… Never thought I’d be a dad,” Sam told him. Dean had already been a dad before and it hadn’t ended well. That was something that he and Gadreel had in common. Sam let go of Dean and sat back into bed heavily. He wasn’t in pain anymore, but damn he was tired. Even after crashing for hours. Sam rubbed his neck and sighed. “Right. No coffee.” 

Dean sat back, too, resting a hand over his stomach. He gave it a little frown.

“Nope…but Thing 1 and Thing 2 here want me to go snack again, from all the flapping going on,” he joked, standing up. “Want me to bring you anything? I could make you some tea, or get into Jack’s hot chocolate stash or something.”

Sam wrinkled his nose, but cocoa actually sounded good. 

“Um, maybe? Do we have any whipped cream? That sounds good. And some celery,” Sam added shyly. Chocolate and celery sounded like a pretty tasty mix at that moment. 

“If we don’t I bet Cas would fly to the store and get you some,” Dean said, wrinkling his nose. He wasn’t fond of vegetables in general, but celery especially fell under the ‘rabbit food’ definition. Chuck only knew what he was planning on eating, himself. 

“That reminds me, I better let him know you’re awake,” Dean added, pulling out his phone as he started toward the door. He waved with the phone. “Rest up, don’t go anywhere. I’ll text him and go raid the kitchen for ya.”

Sam curled back up, tugging the blankets up over his shoulders and wrapping an arm around his pillow. The sigil was supposed to protect against pain. Did it do anything to keep his soul from being damaged, or did it just make him numb to it?


	22. Together

“We’ll be okay,” Sam whispered, trying his best to direct comfort toward the little angel. A warmth of joy returned to him, and Sam could almost imagine a smile from it. “I guess we should start thinking about names,” he continued, rolling onto his back and resting his hand on his abdomen. 

Picking a gender would be a good start to deciding on a name, but how was Sam supposed to know what vessel the baby would have? Maybe they should just pick an angelic name and skip the gender altogether. 

Sam sighed. He’d have to ask Cas about names. 

As if his thoughts could summon, Sam heard the flap of wings and felt a whoosh of air, and Castiel was abruptly standing beside the bed. 

“Sam,” he said, turning toward Sam with relief and concern in his voice. He reached out and touched Sam’s face, resting a hand on his cheek and studying him with distant blue eyes. Sam realized his soul was being looked over. After a moment the angel leaned and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I’m so sorry, Sam,” he murmured.

Sam caught his hand and kissed it, smiling up at the angel. 

“Don’t be sorry. C-can you see the baby?” Sam asked eagerly, watching Cas. He must be able to. Jack could tell right away. 

“Yes,” Cas admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed. He squeezed Sam’s hand, then placed a hand on his stomach, smiling softly. “And I can feel it…a child, our beautiful little light. I-I wish I could show you.” 

“I can feel him, too,” Sam said with a smile, leaning over to kiss Cas. “Well,” he added, frowning a bit. “Them. Can Jack choose the gender of the vessel? Do you think the baby will care? You’re not really male, so…” Sam trailed off, squinting at Cas. The baby angel couldn’t ask permission to swap bodies, either, so who knew how that was going to work. 

Castiel actually seemed a bit shy at the subject of conversation. He looked up at Sam uncertainly. 

“I…technically no, I’m not.” A bit awkwardly, he cleared his throat, adding, “Our child may be contained in a vessel as they grow, but human bodies… Angels are so far removed from anything in Creation, Sam. A vessel is already so indescribably alien to our true forms that the sex of that vessel is insignificant. I worry more that the baby won’t know how to stop hearing angel radio, or how to use their wings, or a hundred other things.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Sam said sadly, pulling lightly on Cas’s hands to guide him onto the bed. “Come here.” 

Sam had felt the baby’s fear. It was a thousand times worse than it was when he was scared. He understood the world, he even expected to die in some horrible fashion someday — but the world was new to the baby. The chatter of all the angels would be terrifying.

Cas moved easily where Sam wanted him to, laying against the pillows beside him. He wrapped an arm around the brunette, pressing closer. 

“I hated to see you both in such pain,” he murmured, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder. “You had doubts, and I assured you everything would be fine, and then this…” 

Sam ran his fingers through the angel’s hair and shook his head. 

“We’re in this together, Cas. However it turns out.” 

His stomach felt fluttery with Castiel so close. Like the baby was trying to express that he was happy to see him. 

The sigil on Sam’s chest flared blue suddenly as pain split up the brunette’s stomach. It dulled abruptly, but Sam still hugged his stomach protectively. The pain had scared the baby as much as him. A heavy copper taste landed on the back on Sam’s tongue as he coughed, catching a handful of blood on his palm. 

Cas sat up, too, rubbing his back gently. Sam felt cool grace sinking into his back through the angel’s hand, swirling softly down into the pit of his stomach and tingling up into the back of his throat.

“The second sigil doesn’t change what the first is doing,” he murmured, resting his other hand over Sam’s arm around his stomach. Cas sounded worried as he explained, “It keeps the child a bit further from your soul, but as they grow they’re more likely to touch again. Jack still needs to make the vessels as soon as he can.”

Sam shifted closer, wrapping the blankets up around them. Resting his chin on Castiel’s hair, Sam stared into space as he tried to focus on the baby again. It seemed to calm more easily with Cas there. The baby was back to fluttering around and huddling towards Cas. 

“I’ll help him work out a spell,” Sam murmured, closing his eyes. “Just…give me ten minutes.” 

Cas hugged him close, offering no objections. Still, Sam’s ten minutes were cut short by the door opening.

“Oookay, one order of hot cocoa with a side of rabbit food, here,” Dean announced, stepping in with a plate and coming over to sit it on the bedstand. He turned, sighted Cas, and froze.

“Uh. Hello, Dean,” the angel said awkwardly. 

Sam sat up, wiping a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth. His hand was bloody, so it was pointless to hope that Dean wouldn’t notice. 

“Thanks. Cocoa sounds amazing right now.” 

Dean glanced between him and Cas, clearly worried but not wanting to say anything about it.

“So, uh, Cas. Is Gadreel still in the library?” He asked, hugging both arms around his middle. He didn’t seem to notice he was doing it.

“Yes,” Cas replied, offering Sam the hot cocoa since he was closer to the tray. “If you see him, please tell him Sam can help write the spell to make the baby vessels.”

“Thanks,” Sam mumbled to Cas, already climbing out of bed. He couldn’t lay there, no matter how much pain he was in or how much damage was happening to his soul. The life of their child depended on that spell. “What ‘rabbit food’ did you bring? Please, tell me it’s celery.” 

Snapping off a bite of crispy green celery sounded good, but not as good as dipping it in the cocoa first. Damn. 

There was a plate of celery sticks on the tray, along with a couple of chocolate and vanilla pudding cups. Dean gave a little shrug when he saw Sam looking at them. 

“Jack has a pudding stash,” he informed them both. Cas gave him a weird little squinty look at that. If Jack was in bed, that meant Dean had already known where said stash was.

Snagging the plate, Sam took a sip the cocoa. It was perfect. Smooth, creamy and chocolate-y. Sam toasted Dean with the mug, trying to keep his tired smile on his face. 

“He can have a free pass this time.” Sam shuffled to the door, cringing at the cold floor against the soles of his feet. It had been so warm and cozy in bed with Cas. 

The angel was already stepping after him, resting a hand on his back. 

“Sam, I could fly you there,” he said quietly, glancing back at Dean. Sam’s brother trailed after them.

“Go for it, don’t worry about me,” Dean said. “If you don’t need me, I think…think I’ll take a nap.” It was tough to tell if the yawn afterward was for effect, or because he was actually that tired.

Dean usually kicked into protective-big-brother mode when Sam was hurt — and it was good to see him taking some time to sleep. Sam was exhausted with one angel soul floating around. Dean had two. 

“We’ll tell you if we make any progress,” Sam told him, resting a hand over Cas’s. 

Dean gave them both a little salute, smiling tiredly. Cas nodded in return and the world flickered for Sam, the whoosh of air and the flutter of feathers announcing that they had arrived in the library a split second later. Cas immediately looked around for Gadreel. 

“Anything you need, Sam, let me bring it to you,” he said. “You shouldn’t push yourself too much.” The second sigil was still preventing constant pain, but it felt fragile, like eggshells between Sam and the baby and disaster. It certainly didn’t feel safe.

“Thanks, Cas.” Sam leaned down to kiss the angel before taking a seat at the table. Kissing Cas still felt new and awkward. Especially when they weren’t in Sam’s room. 

Gadreel was seated at the library table, going over the pages of a book with stacks of others piled around him. Brightly colored sticky notes stuck randomly out of the books in the stacks, so hopefully the angel had found something useful. Gadreel glanced up at Sam and closed his book. 

“You should be resting, Sam.” 

“I’m okay. We have to get the spell done,” Sam told him tiredly as he took a seat at the table, dropping his cocoa and plate nearby. Those pudding cups were looking pretty good. “Find anything useful?” 

“Yes. I believe that we can make the vessels in a similar way to how we made the angels. We would only need blood to begin the process.” 

Castiel took the chair beside Sam’s, leaning on the table to look at the stacks of books, too. 

“Originally Sam and I thought that perhaps Jack could use blood as a base, and create a new body from it,” he told Gadreel. “Like healing from an extreme wound. I’m not sure that Jack can do it even once, though, never mind three times.”

The unexpected twins did create that challenge — making three vessels instead of two.

“Do you think a sigil could enhance the…” Cas trailed off and looked at Gadreel, squinting. “You,” he said, sitting up straight. “The sigil on you — it’s an energy enhancing sigil.”

“Yes, but I assure you it’s safe. Jack healed the deepest wounds away,” Gadreel said, smiling softly. He seemed to be fond of Jack. 

Sam stared across the table at the angel, sipping his cocoa. With everything going on, he hadn’t noticed that his blood pressure didn’t rise every time he stepped in the room with Gadreel. The angel was clearly in love with Dean, and devoted. Maybe making angels had more to do with feelings than physical love. Perhaps he loved Dean more than Cas loved Sam… 

Glancing at Cas, Sam felt stupid for even thinking that. Cas loved him. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind of that. 

Right now Cas was looking a little bit awkward, still focused on Gadreel. He kept a hand over on the table near Sam, though, like he might need to reach and steady him at any moment. 

“I’m not worried about the sigil being dangerous,” Cas told Gadreel, glancing at Sam quickly and then back to the other angel. “It’s still on you, though — is it possible it’s enhancing your grace? If it is, you might be able to assist Jack in making the vessels.” He turned to Sam, blinking. “Could his sigil…affect how much grace Dean’s sigil has been collecting?”

“Ugh,” Sam groaned. “Nope. We’re not talking about Dean and Gadreel. It isn’t important — we just need to see if it helps with the spell or not.” 

Could the sigil be enhancing the spell? That might explain the twins. Otherwise, Cas and Sam were just that incompatible in bed. Yikes.

Yanking his focus back to the present, Sam grabbed a book off of the stack and opened it to the first sticky note. It was a page of conjuration symbols. Those would be useful. 

“Let’s test it,” Cas said seriously. “My healing should be of a similar strength to Gadreel’s — if we each try to heal a similar small injury, we should be able to see some difference.”


	23. Baby Names

Standing and circling the table, Gadreel readily offered his arm to Cas. 

“I do not have a blade.” 

“I do,” Sam said, remembering that fact as he said so. He got up too, pulling the little pocket knife from a box of junk at the end of the table. Sam was trying to get organized and had raked all the odds and ends they left around the library into one box. Thankfully, he hadn’t sorted it yet. Opening the knife, Sam wasn’t sure if he was supposed to make the cut or hand the knife off to Cas. In the end, he just stood there. 

Cas gently took the knife from his hand, nodding.

“Thank you, Sam.” He turned to Gadreel and held out his free hand, drawing a sharp slice across his palm. It was a practiced, unhesitating move, like cutting himself meant nothing. Sam recalled that Cas had once carved the angel banishing sigil onto his own chest and blasted himself and a whole room of angels away. Angels were used to being instruments of Heaven.

Cas offered his bleeding hand to Gadreel.

“Quickly, please, before too much blood lands on the floor.”

As easily as Castiel had cut himself, Gadreel lay a hand over the wound, and made it vanish in a pulse of bright light. It seemed effortless. 

Gadreel took the knife next, slicing his hand in a very similar manner and holding it out to Cas.

It bothered Sam to see them so willing to injure themselves. Would his child be like that? Was it something they had been taught in Heaven or something they were born with?

Cas placed his hand over Gadreel’s, and white light shone from beneath it. When he lifted his hand away, the wound was gone. It seemed like the healing was more of a second action to the touch, though — Gadreel’s had been instant, like static electricity caused by the touch itself. 

“Hmm.” Cas tilted his head, eyes distant as he studied Gadreel beyond the form of his vessel. “I don’t think the sigil is entirely working, but it’s enhancing still at least a little. Maybe it’s safe because it can’t build up enough energy to explode in a dangerous way.” Luckily for Dean, apparently.

Bothered, Gadreel nodded. 

“If it will aid in saving your child, though, we must try.” 

“I’m not sure putting that sigil on Jack is a good idea. He’s had trouble controlling his powers before — who knows what could happen,” Sam told them, moving closer to take the hand that Cas had cut so carelessly. Sam reassured himself by running a finger over the place where the cut had been. 

Cas seemed surprised by the gesture, turning to look up at him. He smiled.

“I wouldn’t ask that of Jack, either. If the spell is based on angelic healing, then perhaps Gadreel and I could both assist Jack — the two of us healing together, his powers directing our energy into the formation of the vessels. Do you think that we could make a spell to do that, Sam?”

The sudden flutter in Sam’s stomach made him pause, but he nodded to the angel, squeezing his hand. 

“Yes.” Sam wrapped an arm over Cas’ shoulders, pressing a kiss to the angel’s temple. Sooner or later, this would all be over and they’d have a child to care for. 

Kelly hadn’t had a chance to see Jack before she died. Luckily she was in Heaven, so someday if they made peace with the angels he might be able to visit, though. What if Sam went to Hell? Their baby couldn’t ever see him. Sam hugged Cas closer, a twinge of pain splitting up from his stomach into his chest. They had to hurry. 

“…In this together.” Castiel’s voice pulled him back to the present, and Sam realized that at some point he’d sat back down in his chair. When did that happen? Cas was standing close beside him, an arm around Sam’s shoulders and his other hand sending cool grace into Sam’s chest. “We should wake Jack, Gadreel. We need to do this soon.”

Sam took his hand. The baby was reaching for him, he could feel it. A scared light trying to huddle closer to him for reassurance. Sam felt bad that the sigil kept the baby at a small distance. Hadramiel needed him. 

“Hadramiel?” Sam asked, pressing Cas’ hand to his cheek. “Can you feel him? Cas is here.” 

Cas blinked, and his eyes flared bright blue, studying Sam. A fond little smile came to his face as he gazed at Sam, through Sam, maybe at him and the baby together.

“Hadramiel,” he murmured. “Our child has a name. That’s one of the first things that angels did when they were created — realize their names.” He leaned closer, cradling Sam’s face in his hands and resting their foreheads against each other. “We’re not far, Hadramiel. We’re right here with you.” 

Sam could hear it in his voice, too — he was sad that they had to keep the child distant from anyone. Once the little angel had a body of their own, they could be held as much as a baby ought to be.

“Castiel!” Gadreel said sharply, destroying the bit of peace Sam had found from Cas. “That tear had not been there before. Look,” Gadreel pulled his brother away and pointed to Sam, eyes glowing blue. 

“Tear?” Sam managed, his throat tightening. He was struggling to stay calm. The baby could feel it. Taking a deep breath, he rested his hands over his stomach. 

Cas sat back, looking over Sam worriedly. Both pairs of glowing blue eyes gazed at him unfocused for a moment, and then Castiel nodded. 

“It’ll be alright if we hurry,” he murmured. “Wake Jack — and Dean, he said he was going to nap. It’s alright, Sam,” he added, turning back to the brunette. “We expected this — Hadramiel has grown enough already to affect the second sigil.”

“Y-you’ve been healing me,” Sam said quietly. A tightness was spreading across his chest. Hadramiel was there though, huddled against him and terrified. “I think the g-grace from healing was being absorbed by the sigil.” 

Gadreel vanished in a ruffle of wings, hopefully off to get Jack before Dean. They had to start the spell.  


* * *

  
This whole angel pregnancy thing was starting to mess with Dean’s head. It was more like being possessed than actually being pregnant, so why in Hell did he keep wanting to eat whatever wasn’t nailed down? 

The kitchen was looking messy; first reheated Pad Thai noodles had seemed like Heaven on earth with friggin’ mustard on top, and then he’d remembered Sam bought a big pack of strawberries while they were at the store. Half a pint of strawberries dipped in Tohasco hot sauce later, Dean was convinced the twins were toying with him. Or maybe each other. One felt frustrated and the other felt content, then they would switch around.

“What’re you guys doing, fighting for the best seat next to the soul in there?” He asked the empty kitchen, shaking his head and pouring orange juice into a big glass. He hated B8 juice with a burning passion, but apparently tomato paste mixed with orange juice sounded ideal right about now. Maybe with a bit of the hot sauce thrown in.

“Malchedial,” Dean sighed, stirring the glass, “Barrattiel, try to get along.”

Wait, what?

He looked down at his stomach, where both baby angels currently felt…happy. Those were their names, he just knew their names. Not wondered about — KNEW, matter-of-fact. 

“Look, kids, your Daddy…Mama? Whatever. Your parental unit is running on like an hour of sleep, go easy with his sanity, okay?” He was sitting there talking to a glass of tomato paste orange juice and muttering the names of angels — maybe it was a little late for that.

Gadreel arrived at his side out of nowhere, muscular arms slipping around Dean as the angel spoke. 

“Dean, the others are in the library. We have to begin making the bodies — Sam’s soul…” Gadreel trailed off, blue eyes misty. “It’s tearing.” 

Dean had automatically hugged him back, but he was already sitting up and staring.

“WHAT? That’s not — that’s not supposed to be possible, Cas’s sigil was supposed to help protect him!” He could feel the baby angels burst into frantic, anxious motion in response to his own emotions, but it was Sam’s life on the line — his SOUL on the line. Dean didn’t know a way to not be affected by that. “How can I help?” He asked Gadreel, trying to focus on solutions. “How long does he have? Is the baby okay, is the sigil still on him?”

“Shh,” Gadreel shushed softly, pressing a hand to Dean’s cheek. “The others are working as fast as they can to create the spell. You are welcome to help if you like, but I believe Sam needs your support.” 

Dean looked at him, nodding. Despite all of the conflict years before, Gadreel had always seemed to handle Sam’s well-being with care. Even when he was going around smiting people in Sam’s body, he’d kept Sam thinking he and Dean were just working a case, something about hunting a Ghoul that only ate cheerleaders. 

Okay, Gadreel’s dry sense of humor was definitely still in effect back then, too.

It was actually calming to be distracted for just a moment by all of that. Dean could feel the twins still tingling and fluttering anxiously, but they weren’t panicking anymore. It probably didn’t help that guilt was weighing on Dean again, guilt that he had it so easy compared to Sam. Even with twins on board, he didn’t have any risk to his soul, or any pain — it was all weird snack foods and napping on the couch, and Sam deserved that too. It wasn’t fair. Dean would switch places with him if he could.

“Can you take me to him?” He asked Gadreel. “Please.”

“Of course, Dean,” Gadreel told him — then they were standing in the library. Sam was settled in a chair with a blanket spread over him and his bare feet propped up on the table in front of him. 

A couple of tables and chairs had been moved to the sides of the room to make space for a spell circle. 

Cas and Jack were already over there, setting out three big metal bowls in the circle, drawing sigils and placing candles. 

Dean shot Gadreel a grateful look and slipped out of his arms, hurrying over to his brother’s side. 

“Hey…how’re you and the kid, Sammy?” Dean felt Sam’s forehead, which seemed like a stupid move — it was a soul problem, not a physical one. Years of testing for fevers whenever Sam wasn’t feeling well made it automatic, though.

Sam blinked sleepily, waking up to look at Dean. Clearing his throat, he shifted to slide his feet off of the table. 

“The baby’s good. Scared, but I don’t blame him. Oh, and he told me his name. It’s Hadramiel.” Sammy smiled tiredly. “Reminds me of flowers.” 

Stepping past them, Gadreel went to help the others. 

“Yeah?” Dean smiled, pulling out the chair beside Sam’s and turning it to face him. Sitting down, he rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I think the twins got sick of me calling them Thing 1 and Thing 2, ‘cause suddenly I just knew their names, too. Weird, and we’ve seen a lot of weird, so that’s saying something.”

Over in the circle, he could pick out Jack’s voice, Cas’s grittier words, Gadreel’s low tones. They were talking about blood. The twins were feeding off of Dean’s own anxiousness, because they seemed scared again. Dean wished he could’ve been near Gadreel longer, but this was no time to be thinking about himself. Sam and his little nephew needed help.


	24. Little Wings

“What are their names?” Sam asked, still smiling. He looked so tired. The lines below his eyes were deep and his skin had a sickly paleness to it. 

Dean forced a smile for him. 

“Pretty hard to pronounce,” he admitted. “Malchedial and Barrattiel. Gadreel doesn’t know it yet, but I’m giving them cowboy nicknames. I’m thinking Wyatt for Wyatt Earp, and…hmm…Bill for Wild Bill? William, maybe. Yeah, William and Wyatt has a nice ring to it.”

He wasn’t even sure if the kids were boys or girls, honestly. A girl would be called Wyatt, though, why not? Hell, they’d met a woman named Billie already, so that worked just fine. The current Death might be bemused about it, but too bad.

Dean glanced over at the magic circle, catching a flicker of gold. It was Jack — his eyes were glowing as he placed his hand into the three bowls one by one.

They weren’t going to try to make all three vessels at once, were they? Sam needed one before they even thought of Dean, that should be the priority.

Gadreel stepped over to the brothers with Cas in tow, holding out a brass bowl to Sam. 

“We require some blood. Even a tablespoon will do. We don’t want to weaken you further,” the angel explained, looking worriedly over Sam with unfocused eyes. 

“Uh, sure,” Sam said, rolling up his sleeve and holding his arm out over the bowl. 

“Please, my love.” Gadreel pulled a knife from his pocket and offered it to Dean. 

Dean hoped he didn’t blush too obviously as he took the knife, nodding. Having anybody seriously call him ‘my love’ was a new experience. Turning to Sam, Dean took his hand and held it as he ran the knife in a quick swipe over his arm. Blood ran down Sam’s wrist and into the bowl, dripping. It wasn’t a deep wound, but Dean had cut a large enough one for it to bleed freely. Cas or Gadreel had better heal him up after this.

“That’s enough,” Cas said after a moment, taking Sam’s hand from Dean and squeezing it tight. He pressed a palm carefully over the cut, frowning.

“Cas, we’re okay,” Sam whispered up to the angel. “We can’t mess this up. We m-might not get another shot,” he added sadly, giving Cas a hopeful smile as he placed a hand on the angel’s. 

“That should be enough,” Gadreel agreed, hurrying away with the bowl back down to where Jack sat. 

Dean watched Gadreel and Jack for a moment, catching the white light of Cas healing Sam out of the corner of his eye. Standing, he turned to them.

“It’s gonna be okay. Don’t worry about me and the twins yet, just get Sammy’s kid a body first.”

Cas lifted Sam’s hand and kissed it softly, still troubled. Dean was not used to the guy acting romantic toward his brother yet, and he felt strangely warm and fuzzy to see somebody treating Sammy so sweet. Well, good, Sam deserved it.

“I need to help Gadreel and Jack,” Cas told Sam reluctantly.

“I’ll stay with him,” Dean promised the angel.

Sam looked very bothered suddenly, dropping his gaze to the floor and resting a hand over his abdomen. 

“Go help them,” Sam managed, closing his eyes and puffing out a breath.

Cas clearly didn’t want to leave his side. He placed Sam’s hand down and leaned to kiss his forehead, then gave Dean a sad look before stepping back over to Jack and Gadreel. 

Dean leaned forward in his chair, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Hang in there, Sammy. Hopefully this’s pretty quick.” Dean really had no idea what process they were going to use to make the vessels. Jack was looking really uneasy over there, but nodding to Gadreel, who was talking to him.

“You both need to put a hand in the blood,” the Nephilim said seriously.

“Dean,” Sam hissed, a hand gripping Dean’s arm suddenly as Sam leaned over in his chair, hugging his stomach with his other arm. A blue glow flared under his shirt. Letting go of Dean’s arm, Sam sat back up a bit and shook his head, then crawled down out of his chair and curled up on the floor. “I need to lay down.”

“Whoa, okay, okay…” Dean hopped up and pulled his chair out of the way, sitting down beside Sam. He rested a hand on his brother’s back. 

“Dean…” Cas was looking their way, worry pinching his brows. 

“Don’t worry about us, worry about making your kid a body,” Dean called back, rubbing Sam’s shoulder. “The sooner the better. We got this, right Sammy?” 

The way the twins were fluttering and anxious reminded him just how important it was to keep Sam’s baby calm, too. Calm for everybody was the best way. It was a lot easier said than done — Dean felt helpless. It was all on Cas and Gadreel and Jack to fix this. All he could do was stay with Sam.

“Yeah,” Sam said, wrapping both arms around his stomach. “Dean,” he whispered, glancing up at him. “If this doesn’t work out, d-don’t blame Cas or Jack or…Hadramiel. And if the just baby makes it…” Sammy swallowed, his eyes tearing up. 

That last was like a splash of cold water. Sam thought he might die? Just how bad was this? Gadreel and Cas could see Sam’s soul, but Dean couldn’t — he just had to take their word for it. Gadreel had looked pretty worried while examining Sam’s soul a minute ago. How ripped up was it? 

“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean told his brother, resting a hand on his forehead. Sam felt cold, clammy. He still looked pale, too. “Gotta be calm, stay calm, it’s gonna all work out. This’s like…like the Lamaze part of things, right?” Dean mustered a smile for Sam, trying to lighten the mood. “Bet you never thought you’d be doing that, huh? Gotta just breathe.”

There was a glow from the other side of the room. Dean glanced between it and Sam, not wanting to take his eyes off of his brother for more than a few seconds. Cas and Gadreel each had a hand in the bowl with the blood. Jack stood between them, a hand on each of their shoulders, and their eyes all flared bright, shocking gold, looking into nowhere. A bright white-gold light shone up from the bowl. It would’ve been eerie if Dean had time to look longer. He turned back to Sam.

“Sammy? They’re already casting it, just gotta hang in there…”

Sam took his advice, taking sharp breaths in and out, then he was shaking his head. 

“It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay,” he murmured. Sweat was starting to glisten on his forehead as Sammy shakily lifted the edge of his shirt to check the sigil. He frowned. “W-why isn’t this thing working?” As he spoke, a trail of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. Sam lay back, coughing. 

A glowing white light split up the side of Sam’s neck like cracks in glass, smoldering under the surface of his skin. 

Dean glanced at the angels again, and back to him. Damn it, he didn’t know what to do! 

“Shh-shh, hey, calm, remember?” He was talking to himself as much as Sam. He took one of his brother’s hands and held it tight. “Hadramiel, right? Gotta hold still, kid. It’s gonna be okay,” he soothed. “I’ve got you, Sammy, hang in there…” 

“We need to do this right now, Jack,” he heard Cas saying across the room. 

“I-I know! I know,” the Nephilim replied, sounding pained. “Carry the vessel over, I can do this…”

Dean looked up in time to see them all coming over — Cas was cradling a tiny baby in his arms, and Jack looked pale and tired and was leaning on Gadreel to walk. 

Sammy was in too much pain to notice them, rolling his head around against the floor and wheezing in sharp breaths. 

“His soul…” Gadreel gasped, dropping to his knees next to Sam and immediately placing two glowing hands on his back. Gadreel looked worn thin, too, but he was doing his best to heal Sam. 

Jack had sank to his knees, too, but mostly because he couldn’t stay standing without Gadreel to lean on. 

“Dean,” he said shakily, “Move Sam’s shirt. Cas, the vessel…”

Cas placed the tiny baby body they’d just made on the floor beside Sam, then immediately joined Gadreel in healing the damage being done to him. Watching both angels streaming grace into Sam’s back, eyes glowing blue, Dean swallowed hard and turned to Jack.

“Wh-what can I do? What’s left to do?”

Jack scooted his way and practically fell against his side, wincing. 

“I-I just need to touch the sigil,” he said faintly, “And the vessel.” 

Frowning, Dean half-dragged the kid over near Sam’s side and pulled his brother’s shirt aside. Jack slapped a hand on Sam’s stomach, resting the other on the baby vessel. This close Dean saw it was a girl — and so still and lifeless it was truly disturbing to look at her.

Sam had quieted down since the angels started their healing. Or since too much damage had been done, Dean didn’t know which. The little angels he carried were terrified at all of this — they weren’t fluttering anymore, they were huddling as close to his soul as they could, trembling.

Jack mumbled something and closed his eyes, concentrating. This had to work…it had to.  


* * *

  
Sam had blacked out from the pain. The pain in his chest had felt like he was literally being torn open. Thank god that it had faded. As his senses came back to him, he heard voices above him and tasted blood on his tongue. 

He opened his eyes and looked around from face to face. Gadreel and Cas were behind him, Dean with Jack in front of him. The poor kid looked dead on his feet. He would be lucky if HE didn’t pass out too. 

Then came a tiny cry. It sounded so small. So familiar. 

The brunette managed to sit up on his elbow, looking down beside him. There lay a tiny naked baby, kicking her feet and crying for him. Sam’s heart melted as he lay heavily back down, reaching to lay an arm around her. When he picked her up, though, he stopped dead. She had tiny wings on her back — black like Castiel’s, but soft and downy as a baby duck’s. 

“Hadramiel?” Sam managed raggedly, hugging the baby close and blinking the tears from his eyes. She was so tiny and perfect. But…the wings. Had something gone wrong? 

“Sam,” Cas managed, and Sam felt the angel’s hand on his shoulder. Cas placed his other hand gently on the baby, who now lay across Sam’s chest. She’d stopped crying almost immediately, and Cas looked like he was about to start crying, himself. “She’s beautiful.”

“She really is,” Sam agreed, running a hand over the baby’s head. She had a tiny layer of black hair. Gadreel surprised him when he offered Sam his leather jacket, laying it over the baby. Sam mumbled a thank you and wrapped Hadramiel up as best he could with only one arm. “Did the spell go alright? Her wings are showing.” Gently feeling a wing, Sam frowned a bit and looked back at Cas. 

He was looking at the new little angel with a soft smile on his face, which he turned to Sam next. 

“She probably doesn’t know how to hide them yet. It’s okay, Sam, she looks perfect — I can see her inside the vessel,” he murmured, teary-eyed again. “You’re both going to be okay.” 

“Scared the crap out of us first, though,” Dean muttered from off to the side. He didn’t actually sound annoyed, though, he sounded relieved. Jack was leaned up against Dean’s side, and Dean had both arms around him to keep him from falling over. “Everybody’s gonna need to rest after this, but…we actually did it.”

Kissing the top of Hadramiel’s head, Sam had to agree. They had managed to make an angel. 

“We should get off the floor,” Sam commented, glancing around at everyone. “Jack needs to be put to bed.” 

“I shall take him,” Gadreel offered, standing up to hold his hands out for the Nephilim. “You have done amazing things today, Jack. You have earned a day’s rest — and perhaps waffles in the morning?” 

“I might sleep through the morning,” Jack told him with concerned weariness. “Waffles for dinner…?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Dean told him, patting his shoulders as he handed Jack off to Gadreel. “Good work, kid.” 

Jack pretty much leaned on Gadreel’s shoulder, but when he got a good look at Hadramiel he got a little smile on his face. 

“Yeah…”


	25. Comfort

Sam always forgot how strong Cas was. It was moments like this one, when the angel scooped him up from the floor and easily carried him and the baby, that reminded him.

As goofy as they probably looked with their height difference, Sam was grateful. He wasn’t sure that he could even walk at the moment. A heavy exhaustion hung over his limbs like he hadn’t slept for days. 

The baby in his arms was worth it all. She was sleeping soundly, lashes down against her cheeks, looking truly angelic. Somehow, Sam had expected a full size person like Jack. Now he had a whole new string of worries. They needed baby clothes, diapers, blankets, formula, and maybe even a crib. 

“Cas,” Sam said, forcing himself to stop staring at the baby. “We don’t have any baby supplies here.” 

“They’re angel babies, Sammy,” Dean said, stepping over closer to look at Hadramiel. He smiled at Sam next. “Angels don’t need supplies, right Cas?”

“Uh,” Cas said awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Well, not full grown angels, no. This young and small, she’ll likely behave like a human child until her grace grows stronger.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, turning back to Sam.

“And we don’t have any baby supplies here. Oh boy.”

Looking down at the baby again, Sam sighed. They’d have to teach her to sleep on her stomach. Those tiny wings looked delicate.

“We’re going to have to cut holes in any sleepers we buy for…Haddy.”

Dean chuckled uneasily, wrapping his arms around his stomach. 

“Yeah…I’m just glad you’re both okay. Cas’s gonna take the best damn care of you guys, aren’t you Cas?” He gave the angel a meaningful look.

“Yes I will,” Castiel promised, cradling Sam closer against his chest. “Go to Gadreel, Dean. Try not to worry about Sam.” 

Dean snorted, patting Sam’s shoulder lightly as he stepped past the two of them and slowly toward the door.

“Think we both know me too well to believe that’ll happen. Rest up, Sammy.” 

The door opening and closing softly echoed through the room, and then Castiel’s wings were ruffling the air around them. Abruptly, they stood in Sam’s bedroom, the angel stepping up to the side of the bed.

“Here we are again.”

“Welcome home,” Sam told the baby, cuddling her as tightly as he dared. As soon as his feet were on the floor again, Sam sat on the bed. His legs were shaking before he even made it there. How was he supposed to sleep? He was absolutely exhausted to his core, but the baby couldn’t safely lay next to him, could she? Sam made a note to read a lot of books on that. Later, though; he didn’t trust himself right now to stay awake through a book. 

Or to crawl into bed while juggling a baby, for that matter. 

“Cas, can you hold her for a minute?” 

“Of course,” Cas murmured, offering his arms. “We can fold a cloth diaper for her until we buy some — I read about it when I was preparing for Jack to arrive.” That was ironic, considering how many diapers had been loaded into his truck outside of Kelly’s cabin. Still, Cas studiously reading baby books was a cute thought.

Sitting the baby into Cas’s arms along with Gadreel’s jacket, Sam hurried to get into bed. Sadly, right now his hurrying speed was more like his usual before coffee speed.

Cas sat little Hadramiel up to lean against his chest, admiring the tiny wings folded against her back, fluffy dark feathers peeking over the edge of the jacket.

“Sam,” he whispered, sounding like he had a lump in his throat. “This…is something I never thought I would have. I wish there were words for how much I love you, and her.” He sniffled, holding their daughter closer and smiling despite himself. “I-I’m sorry, I know you’re tired, and we can talk about this later.”

Sam had crawled into bed and propped himself up against the headboard. He patted the spot beside him for Cas. 

“I love you, too. Come in here. We could all use a nap.” 

Seeing Cas standing there with Haddy was enough to make Sam’s eyes tear up. They had done it, just like Cas had said. They had outshone God and made a new person. 

Cas very carefully placed the baby into Sam’s arms again, wiping at his eyes. 

“I will, just…just a moment.” Sam heard his wings flap, and the angel vanished. He was back not even a minute later, though, holding one of Jack’s T-shirts. “I’ll make her a diaper.” 

Rocking the baby, Sam watched what Cas was doing. The angel had studied all kinds of crazy stuff in preparation for Jack. Cas really was a great dad. Kissing Haddy’s head, Sam keep rocking her. 

“…I don’t think I can do this again,” Sam said, frowning to himself. The plan was to find a way to make angels and they had, though Sam felt like he had been minutes from his soul tearing open. If they had taken a minute or two longer, or if Jack hadn’t been as focused as he was, both Sam and the baby could have died. Hopefully Dean had an easier time.

“I don’t want you to do it again,” Cas told him, reaching for the baby. He laid her on the folded T-shirt and wrapped it around her, and it really did just look like a cloth diaper. Sam recognized the safety pins he used to hook it in place — they were from some compression bandages in the first aid kit. Smart.

Haddy stirred a little as Cas scooped her up, offering her back to Sam. She had, he saw, big blue eyes like Castiel’s.

Why wasn’t Sam taking pictures? 

“Hello,” he told the baby, leaning to take her and lay her on his arm. “You’ve got your dad Cas’s eyes.” Sam couldn’t help placing another kiss on her head. She made a tiny cooing sound in response, flexing fluffy little wings up off of her back. She seemed almost too perfect to be real.

Meanwhile, Cas was shrugging off his coat and laying it across the foot of the bed. Next he took off his shoes, and then pulled off his tie. Sam was already barefoot from before, and luckily the clothes he wore were fairly comfortable. Cas slid into the bed beside him, leaning against the pillows and against Sam’s side. He reached to touch Haddy’s dark hair and smiled softly.

“She’s already falling asleep again.”

Gently laying the baby on his chest, Sam shifted to wrap an arm around Cas, pressing a kiss to the angel’s temple. Sam’s entire body ached, but there was some other heavy feeling over him. 

He’d been exhausted before, especially during his time with the devil living his head. This time was different. It felt so deeply internal that Sam had to wonder if it was coming from his soul itself. Hopefully the baby slept for awhile before she realized that they didn’t have any formula, because even Cas looked exhausted. He’d probably used a great deal of grace making the vessel and helping to stabilize Sam. 

“If she starts crying, wake me up,” Castiel murmured, eyes already closed. “In this together.” He almost sounded like he was reminding himself, and in the next moment he was out like a light. Angels, at least ones that weren’t brand new fledgling angels, didn’t usually need sleep. Right now not one person in the bunker was at a hundred percent, though, not even the celestial beings.

Sam watched Cas, then looked at Haddy to compare. The big brunette smiled and closed his eyes too, a hand resting just below the tiny angel’s wings. Both angels had dark hair and lashes, and were the most beautiful people Sam had ever seen. 

Heaven could never have them.  


* * *

  
It was quiet in the library. Cas had flown away with Sam and their little baby angel, and Gadreel had taken Jack away to put him in his bed. Though Dean had made a show of leaving when Sam was there to reassure his brother, something had made him go back into the library again.

The magic circle and the drops of blood made it look like there had been a struggle. There were extinguished candles scattered on the floor; someone must have knocked them over when hurrying the baby vessel over to Sam. 

Sam…

Nothing made Dean feel more helpless than watching Sam in pain and not being able to do anything. He’d been so focused on offering reassuring words — the only thing he could do — that he hadn’t been paying much attention to the twins’ panic until everything got this quiet. 

And that was how Dean found himself sitting on the floor over where Sam had been laying, hugging his stomach and crying. No, not crying, friggin’ WEEPING. The babies outnumbered him two-to-one for what emotion was strongest, and they could tell Dean was upset about Sam. Apparently “upset” felt like the end of the world for them. Dean would’ve felt terrible enough without their help, but boy were they helping anyway.

His usual ways of dealing with the tough things were to go be alone or to shoot some whiskey, and neither of those options were options right now. He’d been trying to get it together and calm down for the past ten minutes, praying Gadreel didn’t show back up yet, because this was embarrassing.

Dean must have missed the rustle of feathers as Gadreel arrived, because the hand on his back surprised him as the angel knelt to the ground at his side. 

“Sam is safe now, Dean. I promise,” Gadreel told him, hugging him in his arms. 

The twins were doing their happy, fluttery little thing they did when their dad was nearby. Great, Dean thought, hiccuping. NOW they decided to be all sunshine and roses. 

“Good. Thanks,” he sniffled, taking a halting breath. “M’okay, just…g-give me a minute.” Did that sound like he wanted Gadreel to go away? Worried he’d think that, Dean reached up and grabbed the front of the angel’s shirt, wiping his eyes with his free hand. 

He sighed. Way to deal with things like a grown man, real smooth… Dean hastily thought apologies at the babies, who struck with a wave of tearful sadness in response to that. It was like his every thought was talking right to them.

Gadreel held him, resting his head against Dean’s. 

“Jack is exhausted,” the angel said after a moment, rubbing Dean’s back in gentle circles. “He was asleep before I could get him into his bed. He’ll need some time before he can create more vessels — we all will.” 

Dean scooted a little to face him more, hugging Gadreel back. He hid his face in the side of the angel’s neck and closed his eyes, focusing on the solid warmth of his chest, breathing in the soft familiar scent of whiskey. The twins were reassured by Gadreel’s presence, too, and the overwhelming upset that had been gripping Dean was suddenly melting away. 

“We’ll be okay,” he said finally, after taking a few deep breaths. “When Sam’s like that, I can’t just be calm. Thought his soul might just…rip to shreds, and for what?” No no no, his eyes were stinging with tears again. Dean closed them tight and willed himself to focus on the present only. “I know you’re tired, too. We should go to bed,” he murmured to Gadreel.

“Dean, I know that this will not be a comfort…” Gadreel sighed, and stood, scooping Dean up into his arms effortlessly. The angel hesitated there with Dean against his chest, expression growing sad. “I feared the same. I saw Sam’s soul seething, tearing open. Had Jack not been so strong, had we faltered for a moment…Sam’s soul surely would have split apart.”

“Th-think he knew it, too,” Dean sniffled, hugging up around his neck. “Was talkin’ like he wasn’t gonna make it.” It was strange to be lifted up so easy. Hell, the only people he was used to picking him up were usually monsters about to try to throw him across the room. Gadreel’s strength was reassuring, though. 

“We gotta keep an eye on him, make sure he’s okay…okay? I don’t even wanna sleep, he might…” There went the friggin’ waterworks again… “C-Cas promised he’d take care of him. I gotta trust him.”

“The moment Hadramiel was in her own vessel, the cracks in Sam’s soul thinned. He may be weak for a time, but I am certain that he will be perfectly safe in Castiel’s care.” 

In an instant, they were standing in Dean’s bedroom. The angel circled to the side of the bed and sat Dean down on his feet there. Gadreel took a moment to roll the covers back and fluff the pillows, then lifted Dean and placed him into bed. 

“As for you, my love, you must rest,” the angel told him, bowing to press a kiss to his lips.


	26. Under-equipped

Hearing that Sam was safe with Cas was more reassuring than Dean wanted to admit. He had no choice but to admit it to the twins, though — thank Chuck, they responded warmly.

“Hey, wait…” He caught Gadreel’s shirt again, looking up at him and feeling the weight of exhaustion hitting him all at once. He’d never napped before like he’d told Sam he was going to — this pregnancy business kept making him want food, and he’d gone to the kitchen instead. Gadreel was off helping with the spell for so long, though, and Dean didn’t get to see him much today. If he was being a little clingy, he could blame the babies. 

“Stay with me?” He did his best impression of Sam’s sad puppy eyes. Usually Dean wasn’t that good at them, but the leftover tears might hold some sway, too, right? Maybe?

Gadreel perched on the side of the bed, trailing a hand against Dean’s cheek and giving him a smile. 

“I was not leaving.” There was something hidden between the words, though Gadreel didn’t elaborate. He leaned and took off his boots before taking a seat beside Dean on the bed. “Sam knew the name of his child by instinct.” 

“Oh, yeah, about that…” Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position to yank his boots off, too, managing a tired smile. “We were all caught up, so I didn’t get to tell you, but I know our babies’ names, too. I was just sitting in the kitchen and knew ‘em all of a sudden.” 

Tossing his boots on the floor, Dean leaned against the one knee he still had bent up near his chest. Damn he was tired. The babies seemed content that Gadreel was close. Dean looked at him wearily. 

This whole thing had snowballed so quick. He thought he was basically being part of a spell to make angels — ones who acted like ANGELS, not actual babies who cried and got scared and needed taking care of around the clock. This meant Dean was going to be an actual parent, and he felt so horribly under-equipped for that that he was making the twins anxious again.

What the hell did he think he was doing?

“Do not leave me in suspense,” Gadreel pleaded, slipping an arm over Dean’s shoulders and pulling him in closer. Tugging the blankets up around them, Gadreel leaned back into the pillows. 

The babies were tingling happily at Gadreel being close, and Dean was strangely reassured by that. He lay down and hugged an arm around the angel’s waist, snuggling close. 

“Barrattiel and Malchedial. Very angel-y names,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “No offense, but I wanna give them nicknames.”

There was a long pause, then Gadreel kissed the top of Dean’s head, his chest rumbling with a chuckle. 

“I do not think B and M are good nicknames.” 

The chuckling felt nice. It made Dean smile, too. 

“I was thinking something Wild West,” he replied, starting to drift a little. With his eyes closed it felt like it was just him and Gadreel and the little baby angels in the whole world, drifting in space. “Wyatt like Wyatt Earp, and William for Wild Bill. We could get ‘em onesies with sheriff stars or something. What do you think?”

Again, there was a pause, and when the angel spoke his voice was soft like he was afraid of disturbing Dean. 

“I think I love you,” the angel murmured. 

Dean held very still, feeling the twins fluttering nervously in his stomach, and felt insecurity creeping up again. Gadreel thought he loved him, but he didn’t really know Dean that well, right? What if Dean let him down? What if the angel didn’t love the flawed, damaged Dean under the surface, just loved the brave face he was always putting on? 

Gadreel HAD seen Dean at his worst, though. He’d seen him with the Mark of Cain on him. He’d seen him falling apart over Sam nearly dying before today, too — hell, that was how they’d met. The tearful wreck Dean had turned into in the library, Gadreel hadn’t hesitated for one second to embrace that Dean, either. 

And he was still saying ‘I love you.’

It had been far too long in silence, but Dean nuzzled his face closer into the side of the angel’s neck, kissing it.

“Think I love you right back,” he admitted softly.

Dean heard Gadreel say something in return, but he was already slipping away into a dream. 

“Dean?” Sam whispered as a hand patted his cheek. 

Dean squinted up at him groggily, confused. He was just cuddled up to Gadreel, and now…

“Sammy?” He asked.

Gadreel was gone. Dean had a pillow in his arms. 

“Hey, good morning. Sorry to wake you up so early. Haddy won’t stop crying so I was gonna make a store run, but Gadreel doesn’t want me to go alone.” Sam tucked his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat. “Unless you want to come with me, it’s just going to be me and him, so…” Sammy stared down at Dean, chewing his lip nervously. 

Dean immediately abandoned the pillow and started to sit up, breaking into a big yawn. 

“Gotta get baby supplies…hey, I’m already dressed, let’s go,” he said, more realizing it aloud as he looked down at his jeans and T-shirt than anything. He sat on the side of the bed and dragged his boots over one by one, shoving them on without much care. The twins seemed just as sluggish as him, but he could already feel a craving for some weird food coming on. 

Sitting up, Dean ran his fingers through his mussed hair and pretended his eyes were not almost certainly red from crying last night. “Maybe we could get some quiche too. The gross kind with the extra spinach.”

Smirking, Sam stepped back out the door. 

“Dean’s up. He’ll go with me, you can stay here with Cas—” 

“No, I will be going with you,” Gadreel argued, stopping into view of the door while he slipped his leather jacket back up over his shoulders. 

“No, you won’t,” Sam sighed. 

Pulling on the first flannel shirt he could find — gray with a thin red stripe — Dean stepped out into the hallway. He passed Sam and wrapped Gadreel in a hug, kissing his cheek. 

“We’ll be okay. We’re used to driving a lot, get cooped up staying home this long,” he told the angel. “If there’s any trouble at all, I’ll toss a prayer at you, okay?”

“I…” Gadreel rested both hands on Dean’s sides, frowning. Nodding reluctantly, he leaned to kiss Dean’s cheek in return. “Very well.” The angel turned and walked off stiffly, casting a look back at Sam as he disappeared around the bend in the hallway.

“Can we go? Screaming baby, remember?” Sam watched him go, sighing. 

Dean hugged around his stomach, feeling the twins’ anxious fluttering. He hadn’t meant to pick sides — he just needed to talk to Sam, and a drive seemed like a good time to do it.

“I just waxed Baby, she’s ready for some exercise,” he told Sam, starting toward the garage. He felt like he should say something to Gadreel. Praying at him actually made that possible. Dean had no idea what to say, though. He wasn’t even sure what was the matter, only that something was. Maybe it was the babies’ feelings projecting onto him? This was confusing, and damn it, going without coffee was rough.

Maybe they could get more cocoa.  


* * *

  
Other than the odd looks from strangers, shopping for a baby probably wasn’t going to be as hard as Sam had thought it would be. He’d spent the car ride searching the internet for information on newborn babies. The lists online made it sound like they needed half the store to make it through the next week. Sam was trying to just keep the essentials in mind. 

“We need bottles, formula, and diapers. The rest can wait,” he reminded Dean, annoyed when his brother kept stopping to look at every onesie they passed. 

Dean looked up from eying the baby clothes section as they walked past it, and he seemed sort of nervous all of a sudden. 

“She needs clothes, Sammy. We live in a cement bunker — she’ll get cold,” he told Sam, hugging around his middle. “We should get her a baby hat and a sleeper at least.” He paused and picked up a sleeper printed in tiny pastel butterflies, holding it up. “How about that?”

That…was a good point, Sam realized, trying to lighten the frown on his face. He had almost died yesterday. His baby almost died yesterday. She deserved every item on all of those checklists. 

“It’s cute,” San admitted, stepping back next to Dean to poke at the sleeper. Glancing up at the feeling that someone was staring, Sam spotted a man and a woman gawking at them from two aisles over. Too bad Cas wasn’t there so Sam could kiss him and scare the couple away.

Nodding, Dean picked the baby clothes off of the rack and handed them to Sam.

“Okay, and you better add baby wipes to that list of yours. I remember when you were in diapers,” he said. It would have been kind of ominous if he wasn’t smirking. “And you should get something for Cas.”

“Like what? A ‘Number 1 Dad’ T-shirt?” Sam had to smile at the cute mental image of Cas wearing something so mundane. Trying to force himself to relax, he flipped through a couple of the racks of baby clothes nearby. They were all small, but Haddy seemed like she’d be swimming in most of them. They’d have to make holes for her wings until she learned to put them away.

While Sam was loading up on a couple of tiny onesies and matching hats, an aisle of parenting gadgets caught his eye. They had bottle sets, pacifiers, bibs — he hadn’t thought of bibs — and lots of other stuff. He pointed that way. 

“Bottles.” 

Dean looked up like a deer in the headlights, a set of the tiniest little white socks in his hand. They had yellow heels and toes, and looked small enough for a baby doll. Or maybe for Haddy.

“Right. Bottles,” Dean agreed quickly, tossing the socks into Sam’s shopping basket as he stepped past. He made a beeline down the aisle Sam had been looking at, looking them over almost nervously. “I guess…bottle brushes, too, if we get bottles. Hey,” he said suddenly, looking at Sam, “You think we need anything special to take care of her wings? We should’ve asked Cas.” 

Did birds need wing grooming? Would bathing Haddy take the oil off of her feathers? Oh, bathing, they needed baby bath stuff, too…

Sam pulled his phone out and started a quick written list. Without coffee, it was hard to keep track of everything…wait. HE could drink coffee now. 

Casting a quick glance at Dean, who was still poking through the wall of bottles, Sam considered. It would be mean to drink coffee in front of his brother, but maybe Dean would be willing to make due with cocoa? 

Peeking around, Sam spotted a coffee shop by the front of the store. Maybe he could go to buy cocoa and secretly get himself a coffee instead. The paper espresso cups looked the same, no-one needed to know…

“Hey, do you want some cocoa?” Sam offered, adding ‘pet store?’ to his list. 

Dean seemed preoccupied again; he had both arms hugged around his stomach and was looking bothered by a selection of binkies and teething accessories. 

“That’s okay, I’m not…” He sat up and gave Sam a sheepish smile. “I’m in a more of a soda kind of mood. Cas’s ‘it tastes like molecules’ talk must be total crap, or these kids wouldn’t be making me crave quiche and root beer.” 

“Okay,” Sam agreed. “Quiche and root beer, coming up. As soon as we’re done here.” If Dean went through anything close to what Sam had with Haddy, Sam wasn’t sure what he was going to do. For a few minutes he’d actually thought that he and the poor little baby angel were about to die. 

Patting Dean’s shoulder in passing, Sam started working on his shopping list.

It didn’t take them long to find everything on the list (and then some). Skipping the coffee shop might have been a mistake, but standing around in the line with their arms full of bags wouldn’t have been worth it. Sam could sneak a cup at home.

Why in the world had they parked the Impala so far out in the parking lot? Sam was exhausted from yesterday, and Dean was using all of his energy to complain about being hungry. Without coffee, that wasn’t much energy to begin with.

As Sam was shoving the last bag into the back seat since Baby’s trunk was full of weaponry, two men in suits approached them. 

“Sam and Dean Winchester,” the one in front said, curling his lip. 

The moment Sam glanced up, he knew they were angels. If not from the usual accountant-style outfits, then from the long silver blade in each angel’s hand. Sam slammed the car door, hurrying to get between Dean and them. 

“What do you want?” 

The other stepped forward, readying his angel blade. 

“Only God can create angels!”


	27. Warning

Tiny cries echoed up and down the bunker’s halls, trailing after Castiel. It was ironic, really — he’d done so much reading about baby care when Jack was about to be born, and then hadn’t ended up needing it. Now he was grateful he’d taken the time to study.

Hadramiel was most certainly an angel — something her tiny wings wouldn’t let him forget, if it were possible not to see her grace when he looked at her. That grace was still so faint, though, such a tiny light compared to a regular angel, that her vessel needed all of the things that a human baby did. 

No amount of parenting book advice would help the fact that Haddy was hungry. Cas had gone to the kitchen and found that they had some milk, but of course the bunker wasn’t exactly stocked with baby bottles. The fledgling angel’s vessel must have arrived sufficiently nourished — she’d only started crying within the last hour, waking both him and Sam.

Sam…

“Shh-shh-shh,” Cas tried shushing Haddy, doing a U-turn and starting back down the bunker hallway yet again. He should’ve flown to the store whether Sam wanted to go by himself or not. Dean was with him, but still, Dean couldn’t see souls…

Gadreel met Cas as he turned, smiling wearily. 

“Jack is still sleeping — a true miracle. Hello Hadramiel,” the other man said, reaching to brush a finger through the little girl’s hair. 

The baby kicked her legs, sobbing unhappily and making Gadreel retrieve his hand. 

“My apologies.” 

Castiel tried leaning Haddy forward up against his shoulder, rubbing her back. Her soft little wings flexed from time to time, just another part of the fussing like flailing her arms was. Cas tried running his palm over her wings next, smoothing the downy feathers. 

“It feels like they’ve been gone for hours,” he admitted to Gadreel before going back to shushing Haddy. Walking didn’t work, shushing didn’t work — she was hungry, giving her a bottle was the only solution. And she was so upset it was starting to upset him, too. They should have prepared better — it wasn’t the baby’s fault she got to be so miserable during her first 24 hours.

“They will return, Castiel,” Gadreel reassured him, adding a pat on Cas’s back. “If you like, I can hold her for awhile.” Cas could hear the hope in his brother’s voice. 

He rocked Haddy and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Sam would be back soon, and they would feed her together, and then she could sleep and feel better again. It must have been tough for Gadreel, who had had children so long ago, to have to wait longer to get to hold his own child now. 

“Okay,” Cas told him, carefully laying Haddy down to cradle in his arms again. “She seems comforted by being near my grace — maybe it’ll be the same with you.” Maybe the grace of a different angel might distract her a little from crying, even. Cas offered the baby to Gadreel, looking at her red little face. She was still crying, but seemed to be running low on energy to do so all-out anymore. Cas felt guilty all over again.

Lifting her out of his arms, Gadreel held her very gently. A distant smile washed over his face as he rocked her, pacing a little and beginning to sing softly to her. 

“I see the moon, and the moon sees me,” Gadreel almost whispered. The baby quieted to fussing more than sobbing, opening her eyes for the first time since her crying fit began. Gadreel smiled at her and slowly made his way back to Cas as he kept singing. “God bless the moon, and God bless me.” 

Haddy’s eyes were locked on Gadreel’s face as she stopped crying. It seemed the distraction of a new person was working.

Cas had to smile at the sight. It felt bittersweet, though. Just as he felt with Sam, he had to wonder if he was lacking somehow, that Gadreel could comfort Haddy and he couldn’t manage to. He should have just been grateful the baby wasn’t so miserable anymore, and that weighed on him further still. He hoped Sam and Dean would get back soon.

Chuckling, Gadreel offered the baby back to Castiel. 

“She looks so much like you. Jack must have done that intentionally when he created her vessel.” 

Carefully taking Haddy back and holding her close, Cas kissed the top of her head. 

“I wonder if he has that much control over it?” He mused aloud, smoothing the baby’s wings down gently. He was relieved that she wasn’t crying anymore, but who knew how long that would last? She was bound to notice she was hungry again sooner or later. “I suppose we’ll see whether it’s intentional when he makes the vessels for yours.”

Gadreel’s smile faltered, and he nodded. 

“I…I’m afraid to let myself believe they are real, I cannot until I am holding them in my arms, and even then…” The angel turned away from Cas and crossed his arms. “I have never been so afraid in all my time.” 

Cradling Haddy with one arm, Cas reached to pat Gadreel’s shoulder with his free hand. 

“I understand,” he said quietly. “This feels dream-like. You think that maybe it is one. But, Gadreel, angels in the Empty don’t dream. There’s just nothingness.” He smiled. “This is real, and so are these children. I can hardly believe it, myself, but it’s true.”

“I love them so much already,” his brother said heavily, looking down at little Hadramiel. “I cannot bear the thought that they should ever know unhappiness like I have. This world is so undeserving of them!”

“We can show them the good things,” Cas told him, looking at Haddy too. For all of the torment and scars that Heaven had given him, the Earth and all its wonders were things Cas wanted to share with others. He’d tried to show the other angels, but they hadn’t wanted to see it. They were set in believing that Creation was not for them. 

Cas was under no such illusions. God didn’t care, or He would have smited Cas for his disobedience. Instead Cas was brought back several times from things he should have gone straight to the Empty over.

Gadreel caught Cas’s arm suddenly, his eyes narrowing. 

“Angels. The angels have found them.” He looked to Cas, taking a step back as he vanished in a rustle of feathers. 

Cas looked down at Haddy, panic flaring in his chest. Dean must be praying to Gadreel, but Sam had sent no prayers to Cas. What did that mean?  


* * *

  
Sam had taken an elbow to the face, but at least he had kept the angels from focusing on Dean. Their original plan was to banish the bastards — until Sam realized that it might banish the babies too. Without vessels, there was nowhere for them to go. Without the sigil on Dean, they might not even survive leaving his body. Sam had been smearing the sigil out of shape when the first angel caught him and threw him. 

As he rolled across the parking lot, Sam heard the sound of wings nearby. Oh great. Backup. He pushed off the pavement and hopped to his feet, ready to face whatever the angels threw at him when he saw that the new arrival was Gadreel. 

Throwing the angel that had been wrestling with Dean, Gadreel looked the older Winchester over before turning to the other attackers. 

“You sought to make more angels yourselves! Why attack us when we succeed where you have failed?” 

“Traitor,” the taller of the two angels panted, clutching at his now bloodied arm. “You were to bring the Nephilim back to make real angels, not these filthy spawns! No human can produce an angel! You are a fool!” 

“Speak ill of my children again and I’ll tear you apart!” Gadreel spat back, snatching the dropped angel blade from near Dean’s feet. 

Sam hurried over to Dean and Gadreel, holding out his hands. 

“Wait, wait! Everybody calm down! We all have the same goal here!” 

Dean grabbed Gadreel’s shoulder, keeping his eyes on the other angels. Before he could say anything, the air whooshed away beside Sam and Castiel appeared there. He took one look at Sam’s bloody nose and turned to the other angels with a glare.

“Killing you would leave Heaven with even less ability to house souls,” he gritted out. “You’d better be grateful for that and leave. NOW.”

The attackers considered for a moment, then backed away. As one flew away, the other shook his head, lip curled in disgust. 

“Whatever monsters you create are enemies of Heaven.” With that, he was gone. 

Sam was furious. He’d been stupid to think that Heaven would accept whatever help they could get. They were determined to only accept ‘pure’ angels. Shoving the thought away for later, he went to hug Castiel — and realized that he was alone.

“Haddy! Where’s Haddy?” He asked, staring down at the angel. 

“She’s safe,” Cas promised, gripping his chin and getting a better look at his nose. He looked sad to see Sam bleeding, and raised a hand to touch the tip of his nose, healing it in a blink of white light. As soon as that was done, he cupped Sam’s face in his hands, still fretting over him. “I should have come with you…”

“Is he okay?” Dean called over, sounding anxious. It was probably tough for him to stay over there and let Cas do the fussing instead of hurrying to Sam himself.

“I’m fine,” Sam replied quickly, glancing at Dean. He was way more worried if DEAN was alright. They never should have let him leave the bunker in the first place. 

“We must leave. I will escort you home,” Gadreel said as he led Dean to the driver’s seat of the Impala, angel blade tucked under his arm.

Sam turned his attention back to Cas. “Maybe we should fly home?” 

Cas glanced up at him, then over to the car worriedly. 

“Did you have the chance to buy the supplies? I’ll fly us back, but we should bring everything to feed her.”

“Yes! Yes, it’s all in the back seat.” Sam let go of him and went to open one of Baby's back doors. He snagged most of the bags, leaving the bigger items like the bedside crib and the swing for later. “Dean, we’re gonna fly back. You guys gonna be okay?” 

Dean had a hand hugged around his stomach and was looking a little pale, but he mustered a smile and gave Sam a quick thumbs up. 

“Go feed that kid, we’ll be home soon.”

When Sam turned back around he found Cas with that distant-eyed stare that meant gazing at his soul. The angel immediately stepped closer as soon as he saw Sam had the bags in hand. 

“We’ll see you soon,” he told Dean and Gadreel solemnly, and Sam felt the air move as they flew back home. 

After the baby crying that morning, the bunker seemed eerily still and silent.

“Where is she?” Sam asked, hurrying down the hallway towards his room. Why wasn’t she crying? Where did Cas put her? 

“Sam! It’s okay,” Cas said, hurrying after him. He caught Sam’s arm right before the door to the bedroom, pointing down the hallway instead. “I left her with Jack — they’re probably in his room.”

Trying to shake off the panic, Sam started that way instead. Jack would never harm a baby…not on purpose. Sam felt guilty even thinking that as he pushed the door open to Jack’s room. 

The Nephilim was laying on his bed with his head and shoulders sunken into a big fluffy pillow. Haddy lay on his chest, her little wings folded peacefully on her back with one of Jack’s hands resting just below them, holding her close. The tiny angel rose and fell with each of Jack’s breaths.

Both of them were fast asleep.

“I guess he’s still tired from making her vessel,” Cas murmured from beside Sam. “He was awake when I left her here, I promise.”

“Thank God.” Sam sat the bags aside and turned to give Cas a kiss before heading across the room. As heart-warming as the scene was, Haddy had to eat something. 

Pausing beside the bed, Sam pulled his phone out and took a picture. That was the first one he had of her. It was hard to disturb them. They looked so peaceful. That wouldn’t last once Haddy realized how hungry she was again. 

“Um Cas,” Sam whispered, looking back over at the dark-haired man. “Do you know how to make a bottle for her? We should probably do that before we wake her up.” 

“I’ve read all about it,” Cas assured him, nodding. “Would you like me to show you?”

Taking one last look down at the sleeping angel and Nephilim, Sam nodded and went back to Cas, taking the angel’s hand in his. The kids were safe in the bunker for now, with its wards to make it untraceable for miles. 

At least Heaven couldn’t find them while they were at home. Sooner or later that wouldn’t be an option, though. Hadramiel and the twins couldn’t live their lives out in a concrete bunker. They had to start working on a plan B. The angels in Heaven were assholes, but all the innocent souls up there deserved peace.


	28. Binkies and Milkshakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Threshie here, hello! I couldn't resist drawing Cas holding Haddy, so [click here to see it over on my Tumblr art blog](https://threshasketch.tumblr.com/post/185374339933/castiel-with-his-new-angel-daughter-hadramiel-from). ♥ Thanks for reading -- we hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Dean was speeding a little bit, but right now he didn’t care. Of all the ungrateful, holier than thou reactions Heaven’s angels could have had, the confrontation at the store was somehow worse. He’d expected them to at least acknowledge that the babies were real angels. They were — Cas and Gadreel could recognize a fellow angel when they saw one, even if the twins and Hadramiel were tiny versions. 

But “monsters”? “Filthy spawn”? Not even a second’s consideration to let them TRY to help? 

Heaven needed to get over itself.

Dean slowed down just enough to turn a corner on the road, fuming silently. He knew he should talk to Gadreel, but he had a feeling that would just lead to an ‘I told you so’ about Dean wanting to leave without the angel that morning. If he’d let Gadreel come along, Sam wouldn’t have ended up thrown around the damned parking lot, so maybe it was Dean’s fault after all…

The twins were getting worked up, too, their anxious energy tingling and fluttering around in his stomach. Gadreel’s presence was probably the only reason they weren’t wreaking havoc on Dean’s emotions like last time.

As they began to make the turn, Gadreel placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. The look on his face wasn’t smug at all as he leaned closer to try and catch Dean’s gaze. 

“The children are very unsettled. If there’s anything that I can do to help, please tell me, Dean.” The angel had already healed him, just in case. 

Dean glanced at him and then back to the empty stretch of road they’d just turned onto, frowning. Of course the twins were upset that he was upset. He still didn’t know what to do about that, either — shoving upset away so others couldn’t see it was one thing, but just not feeling anything? Yeah, he WISHED he had that ability.

Pulling the car to the side of the road, Dean sat back in his seat with a heavy sigh. 

“I wish I knew what to tell you,” he said — then almost immediately added with a scowl, “And can you believe those feathered bastards? They’d rather have Heaven fall out of the damned sky than let us help!” 

The little angels weren’t calming down any at THAT outburst, but Dean couldn’t help it. Helping Heaven keep running was the whole goal of this plan — what were they gonna do now? There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in Hell they handed over Jack, and that seemed like the only way Heaven was going to accept any help from them.

“Give them time,” Gadreel told him, expression still soft. He leaned and pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek. “They have very few choices left. Once the children have grown into their grace, Heaven will have to accept them for what they truly are.” 

Dean looked over at him, frowning again. 

“How’re you so sure? These are the same SOBs that threw you in jail for practically forever,” he pointed out, sitting up and taking one of the angel’s hands. The baby angels fluttered uncertainly, and he couldn’t decide if it felt uncomfortable or just tickled. The idea of handing their kids to those angels now bothered him just as much as the idea of letting Heaven have Gadreel back. He couldn’t even think about it.

“Surely they won’t condemn billions of innocent souls to an eternity of nothingness. Naomi can be cruel, but she can be reasoned with…on occasion.” Gadreel’s eyes grew distant as he looked down at their hands, eyebrows lowering sadly as he ran his thumb over Dean’s knuckles. “We cannot force them to accept our help. The fate of Heaven isn’t in our hands.”

“Yeah, well if we had any confidence that they’d be able to handle it on their own, we wouldn’t be going through with our own plan, now would we?” Dean pointed out, squeezing his hand. 

Hearing Gadreel try to vouch for Naomi, after all he’d been through thanks to her and the other angels, gnawed at Dean. Gadreel didn’t owe them anything — he’d be justified if he wanted no contact with Heaven ever again. He wasn’t doing this for Heaven, though, he was doing it to keep all those souls from being hung out to dry.

“Your angel WiFi idea’s not sounding so far-fetched to me right now. Could they even stop us from helping if we were just plugging power from the kids right into Heaven from here?” Dean raised his eyebrows. “You and Cas could even help if you could do it from home — that’s five more angels than they’ve got.” Wait, did Jack count, too?

“I have no doubt that Heaven could find a way to block us out, if they were inclined to do so, but that would be foolish.” The angel sat back in his seat, keeping hold of Dean’s hand. “I worry that they may be able to track it to its source. We do not want to expose the bunker. Perhaps…a relay?” He glanced at Dean. “Lucas complained about the router in the bar often. He explained its function, which is what I was considering. I have seen Sam’s capabilities with computers. He would know the first steps to take.” 

Dean nodded a little, distracted by the image of Gadreel just riding around in his vessel’s head, absorbing WiFi tips and recipes for mixed drinks. That was a side of him they’d never seen back when they first met him, that was for sure.

Listening to Gadreel’s voice was calming. The twins had stopped their nervous fluttering, and Dean had stopped fuming long enough to realize that the situation was still in their control. Heaven accepting or rejecting the kids didn’t make or break the plan, not if Sammy could do his brainy nerd thing and make this Heavenly router idea actually work. 

“We should talk to Sam and see what he can cook up,” Dean agreed, mustering a smile for the angel. He wanted to kiss him, or hug him, something, but they had to get moving again. Heaven’s Finest might try coming after them again anytime they were out of the bunker now. 

Dean’s stomach gave a loud grumble, and he hugged around it with his free arm, chuckling despite himself. The angel twins had burst into motion at the sound, like it had startled them. Judging by the way it was suddenly all he could think about, they wanted Dean to go buy a milkshake somewhere. Finally, something the kids liked that Dean actually usually liked as well…

“First, let us find your something to eat,” Gadreel told him, as if reading his mind (or hearing his stomach, maybe.) “You must keep your strength up. The twins’ need for energy is only going to increase.” 

“Yeah, well right now their need for milkshakes couldn’t get any stronger,” Dean informed him, reluctantly letting go of his hand to pull the car back out onto the road. One step at a time. Cas and Sam were probably busy feeding Haddy, they couldn’t work on the Heaven router thing yet anyway. “There’s got to be a drive-thru around here somewhere.”  


* * *

  
As soon as Haddy had something to eat, she stopped fussing. The tiny girl was looking around sleepily, wiggling her feet in her new onesie. She would look around the room, then up as Sam with big blue eyes, imitating his goofy smile. At least she was more like a three or four month old, rather than a newborn. Still, Sam felt like he could hurt her just by moving. 

“Hey,” he said, lifting her up to kiss her head. “Feeling better already, huh?” 

Haddy yawned and squirmed, sucking on her fingers. They had cut holes in the onesie for her wings, and they flexed a little, too.

“Right,” Sam mumbled as he remembered that he had bought her a pacifier. It was in one of the many shopping bags scattered around the kitchen. “Hey, uh, Jack? Can you help me for a sec?” 

“Yes…” The Nephilim sat up from where he’d been leaning on the kitchen table, moving over to Sam’s side with a small yawn. He’d been asleep when they came to get Haddy, but moving the baby out of his grasp had made him wake up quick. The kid was definitely still groggy, though. 

He looked at the baby and then at Sam. “What do you need?”

“Can you find her pacifier? It’s in one of the bags. Sorry, I don’t know which one.” 

When she saw Jack, Haddy smiled again, reaching her hands out in his direction. Sam rocked her. She definitely seemed fond of Jack. Since she seemed to be comforted by being near Cas, maybe it was Jack’s grace that made him so safe to her.

“It’s yellow,” Sam added helpfully, when Jack didn’t move right away.

The Nephilim smiled at Haddy and leaned to grasp one of her tiny hands, shaking it. 

“I’ll find it,” he vowed, stepping away to start rummaging in the bags. He’d take one item out, look at it critically, then sit it on the counter and dig for the next. “Um, Sam? What IS a pacifier, anyway?” 

“It’s…” Sam hesitated. The description of a pacifier was pretty weird. Jack asked though. “It’s a rubber nipple for her to suck on. It helps her stay calm. Not sure if she needs it now.” 

Haddy seemed completely at ease. According to all the forums online, she should have gotten sleepy enough to actually nap after eating. It was possible that a small growth of grace could affect her, give her extra energy. She was pretty tiny. A baby that didn’t sleep sounded like an overwhelming challenge, though. Thank God Cas was around. 

“This doesn’t look like any nipple I’ve ever seen,” Jack commented. He was holding up the yellow binkie Sam had bought, studying it from first one angle and then another. 

“What? How many nipples could you have seen?” Sam asked, caught off guard. Jack saw people naked? Who? When? Why the hell hadn’t someone been watching him? “Never mind!” Sam added quickly, coming over to take the pacifier. Laying Haddy up against his shoulder, Sam tried to get the package open without jostling her. “I really don’t want to know.” 

Jack seemed curious about that kind of reaction, eying the pacifier.

“All mammals have nipples, Sam,” he replied dubiously, as if he thought Sam of all people should already know this. “Except the echidna. And the duck-billed platypus.” He looked at the binkie Sam was still struggling to open. “Um. I could help open that, if you want.”

Giving up, Sam handed it back to him, readjusting his arm under Haddy. He hadn’t really seen much of Jack lately. Especially after the spell. 

“Jack, I don’t think I’ve said thank you yet. For everything. You helped make the spell, you helped save our lives. Haddy wouldn’t be here without you.” Sam felt his throat tighten. Jack was as much his kid as Haddy was and Sam couldn’t be more proud of how the Nephilim carried himself. Fighting the stinging in his eyes, Sam leaned to give Jack a hug, mindful that tiny Haddy was still leaned on his shoulder. 

Jack hugged him back carefully, momentarily forgetting about the binkie in one hand. 

“I’m glad I could,” he said, a bit muffled by Sam’s shoulder. Sitting back, he smiled brightly up at Sam, then reached to pat Haddy’s head gently. “I always wanted to use my powers to do something really good. Usually when I try that, somebody ends up getting hurt, but not this time!”

Haddy suddenly starting kicking her legs, babbling happily at Jack’s touch. 

“She really likes you.” Sam patted the baby’s back and went back to the kitchen table to sit down. Barely sleeping last night wasn’t helping him feel any better. The half pot of coffee was helping, though. “Are you feeling better? You really crashed out last night.” 

Jack trailed after him, along with the sound of shredding paper as he ripped open the pacifier packaging. He stood beside Sam and offered the binkie.

“I feel tired no matter how much I sleep. I’m not used to sleeping so much — maybe I’m doing it wrong,” the Nephilim said seriously. “I keep having dreams, too.” 

“I’m sorry, could you rinse that?” Sam asked, laying Haddy down on the table. Dean was right — the bunker was cold. Sooner or later, Sam was going to have to face setting up the new crib. The box said ‘some assembly required.’ That probably meant it was in a million little pieces. Pushing the thought away, Sam smiled after Jack. “What kind of dreams?” 

“Oh, um…” Jack rinsed the binkie under the faucet in the sink, shifting on his feet a little. “Nothing important. Just about places, mostly.” 

He came back over to the table and offered the binkie again, smiling at Haddy as she kicked her little feet. “One time I was back in Apocalypse World, only Mary wasn’t there. Or anybody, even Michael. It was just me in the desert.” 

Jack frowned distantly. “And then last night I was in Heaven, even though I’ve never been there. Castiel says you’ve been there. What’s it like?”

“It’s very bright. There’s lots of doors leading to different people’s versions of Heaven. If it wasn’t for all the angry angels, I’d say it was peaceful.” Sam gave Haddy the pacifier carefully and picked her back up. She couldn’t be put down too much with her wings. He was still worried she could roll over and hurt one. 

It wasn’t surprising that Jack still had nightmares about apocalypse world. The Nephilim had grown quickly in his time over there. Too quickly for Sam’s liking — he was still just a kid.

Jack had a wistful little smile on his face now, listening to Sam talk about Heaven.

“Peaceful,” he repeated, nodding. “It was peaceful in my dream, too. Maybe someday I’ll get to see it for real.”

Cas stepped into the kitchen, moving over to plant a kiss on top of Sam’s head. He looked at Haddy’s little wings folded on her back and smiled. Jack beamed at the little kiss.

“Okay, I cleaned up the mess the spell made,” Cas told Sam. “Shouldn’t Dean and Gadreel be back by now?”

“Yeah, we should give them a call.” Sam stood up and gently handed the baby off to Castiel before digging out his phone. Haddy looked so much like Cas with her dark hair and big blue eyes. Even the wings on her back were tiny versions of her father’s.

Cas smiled down at the baby warmly, leaning her against his chest and kissing the top of her head, too. He swayed back and forth, smoothing the feathers of first one tiny wing and then the other. Haddy seemed relaxed being near his grace, as usual.

Jack was looking a little sleepy again, leaning his elbows on the kitchen table.

Sam sat back down, dialing Dean and bracing the phone against his ear while he started sorting the bags of baby stuff. Hopefully Dean and Gadreel were just taking a scenic route.


	29. Figure Eights

Gadreel was patient, protective, and had a surprisingly good sense of humor. For a guy who didn’t eat or drink, he seemed perfectly happy to humor Dean and go get a milkshake (or two…) at a place 20 minutes’ drive out of the way before returning to the bunker. Sam called at that point, worried about how long they were taking. It was nice to know he was still feeling okay after getting thrown around.

Dean had never imagined himself ending up with somebody who wasn’t human, much less having kids together, but here he was. And he couldn’t find anything about Gadreel he didn’t like…so why did he want to get away from the guy?

As soon as they’d arrived back at the bunker, Dean had excused himself to go put away the remaining groceries. Sam and Cas were busy, something about a baby crib, and Jack luckily ambushed Gadreel with big, hopeful eyes and a DVD boxset of The Drone Wars. Dean had waved them off with a smile, making some excuse about needing to do the laundry anyway.

And so here he was, folding flannel shirts and feeling depressed. Why’d he ever tell Gadreel he loved him? That was stupid, this was all moving way too fast to be saying the L word yet. On the other hand, they were having kids together and the angel had literally promised to stay with him forever, so…HE wasn’t the one with commitment issues…

The twins buzzed happily around, and the tingly feeling was so strong it was kind of uncomfortable. They seemed to be in a positive mood, but Dean hugged around his middle and winced all the same. If something was wrong, Gadreel would’ve seen it, right? They FELT happy. Friggin’ acrobatic, apparently that’s what milkshakes did to them.

“Don’t you dare,” Dean told them wearily, feeling a twinge of a craving starting up. N&Ns mixed with jelly beans? Maybe Jack’s son of Satan influence had carried through to them somehow in the spell, damn.

Dropping the last pile of neatly folded laundry into the basket, Dean sighed heavily. Maybe he should just talk to Gadreel. He was an angel, though — would he understand why Dean was feeling…not perfectly happy? He wasn’t UNhappy, exactly…

Hell, Dean wasn’t even sure how he was feeling, how could he expect Gadreel to?

“Sammy,” Dean told himself quietly, stepping out of the laundry room. Yeah, he’d talk to Sam. Sam was human, he’d get it. Even if he didn’t, Dean could make sure he was still feeling alright after that near-death-of-the-soul experience, and that would definitely make Dean feel a little better, too. 

Decided, he set off in search of his brother. Assembling a baby crib was probably something he’d do in the bedroom, where it would end up, right?  


* * *

  
Sam turned the page of the thick tome he had balanced on his lap, smiling to himself as little Haddy put a hand on the paper. Worried that she might rip it, Sam took her hand in his and kept reading. 

Sending the celestial light of angels up to Heaven sounded ridiculous, but Sam was beginning to compile a list of spells that could be used as the basis. It was going to have to be huge — literally. 

To reach Heaven, they needed to set up a spell space that was as large as they could make it. The idea was to magnify and direct the energy from the babies up to Heaven. Sam had earmarked a couple of walls where he could carve symbols.

It was on such a large scale, Sam really wanted to make sure that the energy could only flow one way. Just in case the asshole angels got any ideas about bouncing it back. 

Haddy paused in her squirming, blue eyes wide as she watched Cas, who was perched on the foot of the bed with a booklet of instructions in hand for the tiny baby’s new crib. 

“How’s it going?” Sam asked, glancing at Cas too. The angel had been quiet for a few minutes now. 

“It’s…not going,” Cas said, holding the instruction booklet up with a frown. He turned a page, squinted at it, and tilted his head. “These instructions make just as little sense in every language they’re printed in.” 

He stood up and started toward the crib’s box, pulling plastic-wrapped pieces out one by one.

Haddy made Sam jumped when she suddenly stretched out her tiny wings, bouncing on her legs eagerly, giggling as both chubby hands grabbed the top of the book. Sam sat the book aside out of her reach and was instantly rewarded by Haddy fussing more, whimpering sadly. Shifting Haddy to his other arm, Sam looked at Cas. 

“Want me to take a look?” 

The baby started crying loudly as the binky dropped and rolled off of the bed. 

Hearing the cries, Cas looked up in alarm. When he saw the binkie on the floor, he hurried over and picked it up, giving it a critical look. 

“It’s okay, Sam. I’ve got it covered,” he promised, even though the pile of crib parts and open instruction manual and utter lack of any tools over there made Sam really doubt it. Cas vanished in a ruffle of feathers, which made Haddy go silent and stare. He flew back a few seconds later, the binkie freshly rinsed, and offered it back to the baby. 

Sucking on the pacifier again, Haddy reached up for Cas, crying unhappily. 

“Aw,” Sam sighed, kissing the little girl’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to drool on the book. It’s like two hundred years old,” he explained, even though the baby couldn’t understand. Hopefully not, anyway. It’d be awful if she was a full grown adult angel trapped in a tiny body. 

Castiel looked at him and smiled fondly, offering an arm. 

“Could I hold her for awhile?”

“Yeah, I think she’s sick of me.” Sam handed the baby off to Cas, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek in passing. Sam pushed up his sleeves and sat down on the foot of the bed, snagging the instructions booklet. “Let’s see here. Attach A to C & M, then attach L to B before attaching…” Sam mumbled, squinting. He looked at the pile of parts for a moment. “None of those are labeled, though.” 

Leaning Haddy up against his shoulder, Cas swayed back and forth to rock her, looking over at Sam.

“No, they aren’t. You’re intended to match the pictures with the parts, but the pictures are tiny and have no color.” He sighed, looking down at Haddy. She had quieted and was grabbing at his tie, chubby little fingers poking at it curiously. Cas smiled and kissed her hair.

Climbing down on the floor, Sam started sitting the parts out so that he could see them all. He’d fought off vampires, demons and everything in between. He could handle putting together a crib. 

“We should buy a baby sling,” Castiel suggested, stepping closer to watch what Sam was doing. He glanced down at Haddy again, smoothing her tiny wings over one by one. “And…did you buy baby shampoo? I was thinking that we should give her her first bath soon. I read that a bath each night makes a comforting routine for a baby, so they settle in to sleep more easily.”

They hadn’t gotten a little bathtub, either, but Sam had heard plenty of stories from Dean about how their Dad used to give Sam baths in motel sinks when he was a baby. The bunker’s kitchen sink seemed so cold, but with warm water in it maybe that would be okay…

Anything sounded better than facing off with the crib, so Sam got up happily, leaving the booklet on the floor. He stepped over and brushed Haddy’s cheek with a finger. 

“We should probably set up the playpen first anyway. She seems like she has a lot of energy. When do babies start crawling?” 

One of those websites had said something about tummy time and babies rolling and a lot of other stuff that Sam would worry about later. 

“It depends on the baby,” Cas admitted, looking at their daughter. It was still sinking in for Sam that he suddenly had a child, a DAUGHTER. She’d arrived so quickly — last week they were still just making plans to help Heaven. 

“…months old,” Cas was saying, unaware that Sam wasn’t really listening to him. “But she’s an angel, Sam — she might have more control of her vessel than a normal baby the vessel’s age might. She’s already very advanced for a baby her actual age.” 

At least Haddy was an angel, something Castiel was more familiar with. With Jack, Sam and Dean had had no idea what to expect. Cas being dead at the time hadn’t helped how they handled that situation any…

Gently catching the baby’s hand in his, Sam leaned down to kiss it. He felt like crying all over again. Never in a hundred years would he have imagined that he’d actually get the chance to be a father. Not to a baby, anyway — Sam certainly considered himself one of Jack’s dads. 

“She’s so beautiful,” he murmured, smiling at the baby. Haddy looked back, eyes taking in the world around Sam more than him. She gave a tiny yawn suddenly, blue eyes falling closed. Cas was gazing at Sam like she had been, and Sam realized that the distant look meant Haddy was probably looking at his soul. 

“Sam,” Cas said, taking a step closer. He was definitely looking at Sam now, right in the eyes. “I love you,” the angel murmured, hugging Sam with the arm that wasn’t holding Haddy. “I-I haven’t said it nearly enough.”

Watching the binky fall flat on the floor again, Sam let it be, turning his attention back to the angel to kiss him. What if it was all just a dream? He didn’t have a moment to waste. 

“I love you, too, Cas,” Sam told him, wrapping his arms around them and holding them close. 

Haddy made a sleepy little cooing sound, perfectly at ease now. Cas held onto Sam and swayed them back and forth like he’d done for the baby a moment ago, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder.

“Once Heaven is safe, I’m going to show you the world,” he promised softly. “Anywhere you want, Sam. I’ll fly us there, and we can go to the museums, the libraries, the great monuments… I-I know we aren’t married, but we can be like Dean and eat dessert first. Uh, and by that I mean honeymoon before wedding, not…well…”

“I think we’re way past that,” Sam chuckled. Sighing happily, he nodded. “I’d love to see the world with you. And Haddy.” 

Sam’s moment of joy was suddenly shaken by the thought that like Jack, little Hadramiel was going to learn how to fly someday. Thank God Cas was there to find her if she randomly vanished. 

Cas sat back and gave Sam a soft smile before checking on Haddy. She was sleeping against his shoulder, little wings folded neatly on her back. 

“How quietly do you think we can assemble a crib?” He whispered. 

A knock on the door made them both cringe. It was loud, but Haddy just cooed and flexed her wings, quickly drifting back off again.

Sam hurried to get the door before whoever it was could knock again. 

“Yeah?” He said as he opened the door to find Dean. Pressing a finger to his lips, Sam glanced back at the angels. “Haddy just fell asleep.” 

Dean was looking a bit pale, and had an arm hugged around his stomach. He craned his neck to see over Sam’s shoulder, where Cas was rocking Haddy. 

“Sorry,” Dean said, making an effort to keep his voice low. He slapped on a smile and took a step back. “It’s nothing important, just wanted to check on you. Seems like you’re doing fine, so…” 

“I am, but are YOU?” Sam asked, stepping out into the hall and closing the door quietly behind him.

Dean glanced up and down the hallway like he was afraid somebody might show up and overhear them talking. 

“I’m not sure. I don’t wanna scare Jack or make Gadreel worry, so I-I was hoping Cas could take a look at the babies, make sure they look okay,” he admitted, even quieter. “Something changed. Feels different.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course!” Sam opened the door again and waved his brother in. After everything that had happened with Haddy, Sam couldn’t help worrying that something similar might happen with Dean. 

Dean stepped inside past him, looking a little sheepish. He waved at Cas before going back to hugging around his stomach. 

“Hey, Cas.”

“Hello Dean,” the angel said, looking up. He blinked and stepped over to stand near Dean, blue eyes scanning over him worriedly. “Something’s changed since this morning.”

Dean started to chuckle and winced instead. 

“Dude, it’s THAT obvious?”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Sam asked quickly, looking between Dean and Cas. If the babies were too big and were going to bump into Dean’s soul, they needed to get Jack to make vessels RIGHT NOW. 

“Shh,” Cas chided gently, nodding down to Haddy, who was still sleeping against his shoulder. He shot Sam an apologetic look for it almost immediately, though. “The twins have grown big enough to be very close to Dean’s soul — and to each other. Remember, they don’t have a whole vessel to reside in, they are contained in a very small sphere around the sigil.”

“So…I’m ready to pop,” Dean interpreted dryly, wincing again. “They seem pretty friggin’ excited about that. Flying figure eights in there or something…oww, seriously…”

“We…we need to get Jack!” Sam concluded, cringing at the volume of his own voice. Haddy didn’t seem bothered, so he rushed back out the door. 

Jack was still so worn out from creating Haddy’s vessel. How was he going to make two more at once?


	30. Waiting

It didn’t take long for Sam to locate Jack. The Nephilim was in his room, sitting on the bed with Gadreel and watching something on a laptop.

“So THAT is a Wookiee,” Gadreel concluded, quirking an eyebrow and pointing at the screen. He shook his head slowly. “It’s hard to believe they are fierce warriors when they are so dog-like.” 

Sam hesitated by the door. Had Jack gotten enough rest? Was he even up to making more vessels? 

“Jack?” He asked nicely, pulling on what he hoped was a calm smile. 

“Sam,” Jack said, smiling at him and waving him over. “Look, we’re watching the Wookiee Hunt episode where they go to the briar jungles of Island Four!” He looked so genuinely, childishly excited about this, and about showing Sam and Gadreel. The angel seemed to be paying attention to the show, albeit with a dubious squint at the screen.

Dean had gone to Sam and Cas to keep from worrying Gadreel, but there wasn’t really any way to avoid telling him now, was there? 

“I haven’t seen this one.” Sam humored him and came over to glance at the screen, running a hand through his hair. “Uh, Jack, how are you feeling?” 

“Like I haven’t slept in weeks, even though I’ve been sleeping every single night for days now,” Jack replied, like that was an extreme amount. For him it was, really. “I’m okay, Sam.” 

He glanced at Gadreel and stepped off the bed, moving away to stand with Sam as if the angel was actually absorbed in the cartoon over there. Sam could see Gadreel glancing at them and listening in instantly. 

“Unless you’re talking about the nightmares,” Jack told Sam quietly, oblivious to this.

No, not the nightmares…what nightmares?” Sam frowned and put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You’re having nightmares?”

The kid blinked and slapped a smile on so fast it was almost funny. 

“I meant my dreams,” he said. Unconvincingly. “I thought maybe you were asking how I was feeling because the one I told you about with the Apocalypse World wasn’t very happy, but it’s fine. They’re just a little lonely. Last night I dreamed about Heaven again, and there was nobody in it either.”

“That might happen if we can’t figure out a plan,” Sam mumbled, putting an arm over Jack’s shoulder and leading him further away from where Gadreel was sitting on the bed. “I’m sorry you’re having bad dreams, but you’ll probably have to sleep a lot more. Dean’s kids…the, uh.” Sam cringed as he tried to find the way to phrase it, lowering his voice. “The twins need vessels soon. They’re getting too big.” 

A rustle of feathers from behind them told Sam that Gadreel had definitely overhead them. Sure enough, when Sam peeked back, the angel was gone from the bed. A Wookiee howled from the laptop. 

Jack looked back, too. When he turned back to Sam he looked uneasy. 

“Is Dean’s soul okay?”

“Cas thinks so,” Sam agreed with a nod, guiding Jack out into the hallway. “You should talk to him, too. Do you think you’re up to making more vessels?” 

Maybe Jack could make one at a time? Did they have enough time to wait that long or was Dean in serious danger? 

The Nephilim stopped and looked at Sam nervously. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, looking down the hallway the way they had been walking. “How much time do we have? I-I have to do double the things I did last time, and I would’ve failed last time without Gadreel and Castiel to help me with just one vessel, and angel, and…” He shook his head. “What if I mess up, and it hurts the babies, or it hurts Dean?”

“Cas and Gadreel will be there to help. I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Sam tried to reassure the young man, leading the way down the hall to his own room. Hopefully Dean was still there. 

Jack was starting to look upset. He followed Sam, brows furrowing sadly. 

“What will happen to Dean if I can’t do it yet? He won’t…DIE, will he?”

“No, no.” Sam hurried back over and rubbed Jack’s back. “It’ll be okay! Dean will be okay. I just figured we’d g-get a head start!” 

Inwardly, Sam had to wonder if Jack could tell he was lying his butt off. All Sam could think about was what had happened with him and Haddy. His soul had almost gone nuclear with one baby onboard. The twins were much more volatile. Jack was right. They had to be more careful. 

Jack watched him as he spoke, but seemed to believe what Sam said, because he nodded along with it and started toward Sam’s bedroom again. 

“Castiel and Gadreel should look at his soul,” he said. “If we can wait, we should wait, Sam.”

There were hushed voices through the door. 

“…Could make the vessels first and move the children into them at a later point,” Cas suggested.

“What, so…a couple of dead baby bodies get to lay around here ‘til then?” Dean asked, sounding strained. “What’re we gonna do, stick them in the fridge? These’re our kids we’re talking about!”

Jack glanced at Sam worriedly, waiting for him to open the door. 

Giving him a tight smile, Sam pushed the door open and stepped in. 

“Hey. How’re you doing?” He asked Dean, making sure to open the door wide enough that they could see Jack was there. In case they decided to continue their grim conversation. 

Dean was perched on the edge of Sam’s bed, both arms still hugged tight around his stomach. Gadreel was sitting beside him with a steadying hand on his shoulder. They both looked over at Sam immediately, neither smiling. 

“Sam. Jack,” Cas said from over near the pile of forgotten crib parts. He started his way over to them with Haddy somehow still sleeping peacefully against his shoulder. She must have just run out of energy for now to be sleeping through this conversation. 

“I’ve been better,” Dean muttered, wincing. He patted his chest. “Take it easy, kids. Daddy’s here, that usually calms you guys down.” He glanced at Gadreel uncertainly. 

Jack stepped over to look Dean over with obvious worry. 

“How is he, Castiel? You looked at his soul, right?”

Cas glanced at Sam like he wanted to say something else, but replied quietly, “He’s not in any danger right now, Jack. Not yet, anyway.”

“Like I said,” Sam said, turning to Jack with a smile. “We should just get a head start. In case things get any worse — not that they’re bad now!” 

Gadreel stood up, keeping his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I can help you, Jack. Just tell me what you need me to do and I shall do it.” 

Jack kept looking at Dean, who was avoiding looking back. 

“I’ll need your help like the last time, with making the vessel. Vessels,” he corrected himself, glancing at Sam uneasily. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can make both and move both of the angels at once. If I tried to move them both and failed, they’d…” He bit his lip. “M-maybe if we move one, a-and wait awhile for the other to be born?”

“Owww, okay, okay!” Dean winced, hunching forward and hugging his stomach. “Wow, th-they…HATE that plan, kid.” He mustered a small smile, shaking his head. “I get it. They don’t wanna be split up.”

“Well I don’t want either of them to die,” Jack replied, upset again. “What are we gonna do?”

Dean sighed, looking up at Gadreel. 

“Maybe you could just knock me out for a few days,” he suggested, and Sam got the impression he was only half-joking. “Kidding,” Dean added, at Jack’s instant frown. “This’s…it’s not fun, but I’ll live. Maybe you just need to rest up a little more, huh?” He looked kind of sick still, and it was difficult to believe what he was saying. Dean didn’t have soul damage like Sam did, though. If his soul was in any danger of shredding to pieces, Cas and Gadreel would say something, right? 

Maybe that’s what Cas was wanted to say and held off on before.

“Okay,” Sam said, steadying himself. “We’ll wait until tomorrow and see how you feel.” He patted Jack’s back gently. “We’ll figure this out.” Barely waiting for Jack to register the comment, Sam went to Cas’ side. 

Haddy was stirring a bit, but still sleeping. She looked so sweet and small in her dad’s arms. Sam brushed a hand over the baby’s hair and smiled despite the tight feeling in his stomach. 

It wasn’t fair of them to put so much pressure on Jack. He wasn’t even a year old yet, himself. Even with Cas and Gadreel helping him, Jack would blame himself if anything went wrong. 

The Nephilim was lingering by Dean, watching him worriedly. 

“I guess I should go sleep again,” he said. Dean reached up and patted his arm.

“Good idea. Don’t worry, we’ll wake you up if we need your help,” he assured Jack. The kid offered a small smile and nodded at him, then vanished in a rustle of feathers. 

Dean sighed as soon as he was gone, his shoulders slumping.

“CAN we wait until tomorrow?” Sam looked from Dean to Cas. 

“We must,” Gadreel chimed in, gesturing to where Jack had just been standing. “Jack was barely able to make one vessel before when he was well-rested. We are expecting far too much from him too quickly.” 

“We don’t have a lot of options here,” Sam sighed, glancing at Gadreel. At least it seemed like he had Jack’s best interests in mind now. Sam was a little jealous that HE hadn’t been the one watching cartoons with Jack, but Haddy and the state of Heaven needed his attention too. 

With any luck, angelic WiFi would become a thing before Heaven’s lights went out.  


* * *

  
When he’d been doing the laundry before, Dean had left a folded stack on his bed. Now he scooped it up and dropped it on the floor, sitting where it had been and starting to pull off his boots. 

Well, this was great. Jack couldn’t move the babies without risking their lives, and possibly Dean’s, so this uncomfortable state he was in was probably sticking around for a few days. Hell, maybe being near Gadreel would make it worse — the sigil on Dean was still collecting the angel’s grace at any opportunity. 

The most recent opportunity must be what had made them grow so much, then, and that was…

“Must’ve been when you healed me back at the store,” Dean realized aloud, resting his forehead against one hand. 

He probably should’ve given Gadreel some context for the comment, but instead he sighed slowly, trying to project comforting feelings at the twins. They were still a bit upset with the idea of being born at different times, from the feel of it. That had stopped being cute little flutters and tingles — now when they moved it was more like something jabbing at Dean’s soul. 

Unlike Sam, Dean had never had anybody try touching his soul while it was still in his body. Hell was a different situation entirely, right? He was gonna go with that. The twins pressing in close must feel closer to how Sam had felt the several times it had happened to him. Unlike Sam those times, Dean wasn’t screaming or having to bite anything to keep from biting his tongue, so he should probably be considering himself lucky, here.

“Any time that I am close to you, the sigil is collecting energy,” Gadreel said from somewhere behind him. Dean could hear the rustle of the angel’s leather jacket as he took it off. After a moment, Gadreel added solemnly, “Perhaps I should sleep on the bench.” 

Dean sat up and started to unbutton his flannel shirt, looking at the mess he’d made of the folded laundry on the floor. He thought back on his worries about Gadreel before and sighed, shrugging the shirt off. It wasn’t the angel’s fault Dean was feeling crowded. From Gadreel’s perspective he’d just gone from a self-sacrificial death to the Empty to this whole mess with Heaven. He’d spent so many countless lonely years in prison, and here Dean was trying to avoid him over a situation that was a heartbeat by comparison.

“I don’t want you to sleep on the bench,” Dean admitted, sitting up and looking at Gadreel. He sighed and held out an arm. “It barely collects any grace if we don’t do anything too fun, right? C’mon, stay here. Being near you makes the kids feel better.” And made Dean feel better, too, but he couldn’t quite say that out loud. 

It was actually good that the twins were getting so much stronger, as long as he could handle carrying them around piggyback on his soul for a few more days. Hopefully just a few more days. Who knew when Jack would be ready to do this?

Taking his arm and lacing his fingers through Dean’s, Gadreel pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Everything will be alright.”


	31. Baby Angel Burrito

Sam could probably navigate the bunker with his eyes closed now. He’d spent most of the night walking around with the baby, despite protests from Cas. 

It would be unfair of Sam to just go to bed and leave the angel with the fussy baby all night. They were in this together. Sam wanted to do his part and comfort little Haddy, even if he needed sleep and Cas didn’t. Usually, usually didn’t.

The baby girl had been alternating between crying her lungs out and whimpering for the last three hours. Sam had changed her diaper, fed her, burped her, rocked her, and had been pacing through the bunker for what felt like forever. He’d even tried singing, though his tired brain could only remember the lyrics to _Stairway to Heaven_.

Haddy kicked her legs, flapping her tiny wings out and crying again. Sam sighed and rubbed her back, making a U-turn and starting back down the hallway. 

“Shh, it’s okay.”

The baby seemed inconsolable. Maybe they should have tried giving her a bath before bed like Cas was talking about. The kitchen was a ways away, but after walking around this long, what was awhile longer? Cas should be there for her first bath, though. The angel was still so low on grace that he was actually sleeping right now.

Haddy abruptly fell silent, making Sam look down at her. She was still teary-eyed, but she’d just hiccuped and startled herself, and wore a wide-eyed look. Staring up at Sam, her little face scrunched up into crying again immediately. 

Maybe she just liked Cas more than him. She could probably tell Sam wasn’t an angel, and grace seemed to comfort her.

“It’s alright,” Sam said nicely, pulling on a tired smile. “We’ll go back to Dad. Okay?” 

Rocking the baby again, Sam looked up and found his brother and Gadreel heading down the hallway. Judging by the bags under his eyes, Dean was getting about as much sleep as he was.

“She sick of the binkie already?” Dean asked, looking at Haddy with a small smile. He still looked kind of pale and had an arm hugged around his stomach. It was a good thing the sigil didn’t really collect much grace just by being near Gadreel, because he was sticking close by Dean’s side.

Haddy stopped crying and stared at Dean, but was still whimpering. She was probably exhausted, too.

“She’ll suck on it for a second, then drop it when she starts crying,” Sam explained, shifting the baby to his other arm. His arms were tired from being in the same pose all night, even though the baby was so lightweight.

“Where is Castiel? Perhaps the presence of his grace would comfort her.” 

“I’m letting him sleep. He was running on fumes.” Sam placed a kiss on the squirming baby’s head. The more rest Cas got, the better. They had to get the twins into their vessels soon. 

Stepping around Dean, Gadreel held out his arms. 

“May I hold her?” 

Sam stared at him for a long moment. A little voice in the back of his mind made him mistrust the angel, even after everything that had happened since he was sent back from the Empty. Heaven had made it clear that they thought the babies weren’t real angels when they attacked the Winchesters. 

“Hey, yeah, he’s got grace,” Dean said, as if Sam could forget that. Wincing, Dean stepped over to the wall and leaned against it with a sigh. “I-I haven’t really got to hold her yet, either. I’ve got a niece.” He smiled wryly. “And my baby brother’s a DAD. I feel ancient.”

Glancing between them, Sam hesitantly stepped closer to pass the baby to Gadreel. The angel picked her up very gently, speaking to her softly. 

“Hello Hadramiel. Hello.”

The baby stared up at him, pausing in her crying. 

“Wow,” Sam mumbled. He couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of Gadreel. It really seemed like angels made Haddy happier. Sam lingered near Gadreel, watching the baby. Perhaps the lack of sleep was fraying his logic, but he was scared to blink.

Haddy kept bright blue eyes focused on Gadreel, hugging little chubby fists close to her chest. She flexed her wings, starting to yawn, and instead hiccuped with a squeak. That woke her right up, and it was back to staring like she’d just noticed Gadreel all over again.

Dean’s tired chuckle made Sam jump slightly.

“You ever get that crib set up?”

“Not yet. I seriously thought about taking it back and getting one that’s already assembled,” Sam told him, forcing himself to look at Dean instead of the baby. She was safe, he kept telling himself over and over again. 

“We have two to make,” Gadreel said wearily. “I had hoped that Castiel could help.” 

Dean snorted. 

“Cas isn’t exactly an expert crib assembler, either. He gets points for effort, though. Gold star.” 

Sam saw that Haddy’s eyes were closed now. Was she falling asleep? Gadreel wasn’t using that angel ability to make people sleep on her, was he?

“…Should really get a baby sling,” Dean was saying, half to Sam and half to himself. “Or three.”

“I…I bought one,” Sam told him, stepping up to Gadreel’s side to check on Haddy. She seemed to be calm. Hopefully not from magic. Gadreel smiled at him and turned to sit the baby back into Sam’s arms carefully. 

“I can fetch it for you, if you like.” 

“Uh, sure?” 

In the blink of an eye, the angel was gone. Sam took the opportunity to breath a sigh of relief and cuddle Haddy close. 

She gave a tiny adorable yawn and grabbed at his shirt, leaning on him. Sam saw her little wings fold on her back, still all ruffled from flapping them so much. Dean was watching Sam and the baby with a troubled look in his eyes.

He patted his stomach, mumbling, “I know, he’ll be back soon.”

Sam headed over to lean against the wall with Dean, smoothing the downy soft feathers on Haddy’s wings gently. 

“How are you holding up? I figured you’d be sleeping by now.” 

“Oh, I’ve tried,” Dean told him wearily. “I’m…I’ll live. I swear they’re doing tiny angel handstands in there.” He smothered a yawn with one hand, then grimaced and hugged his stomach. “Okay, okaaay, I’m sorry. You want me to eat…what, crackers? Peanut butter crackers. Crap, I don’t think we have those…” He sighed heavily. “Maybe they’d settle for eating peanut butter straight from the jar with a spoon.”

In a rustle of feathers, Gadreel was standing in the hall again, the blue baby sling in hand. He came closer and offered it to Sam. 

“My apologies. I couldn’t find it in all of the bags.” 

“Yeah. We went a little overkill with the shopping,” Sam said sheepishly, taking the sling. How did he wear it, anyway? Looked simple enough…but so had the crib. 

Haddy was starting to fuss and whimper again.

Dean pushed away from the wall and stepped over to hug Gadreel sideways.

“You’re gonna want to put that on and then put her in it,” he told Sam knowingly. “Maybe Gadreel should hold her again while you do that. Looks like the wrap kind, you know how to tie those?”

Dean seemed like HE knew how to tie those.

“Not really.” Sam stepped back over and sat the baby into Gadreel’s arms again. The wrap looked like a big, long wad of fabric. 

It had to be tied over his shoulders, right? Sam lay it over his shoulders like a scarf, frowning. 

Haddy whimpered. It was tough not to head right back over to her. 

Dean moved over and grabbed the wrap off of Sam’s shoulders, shaking his head. 

“Here, let me.” He held the cloth in front of Sam and wrapped it around his waist, crossing the ends and pulling them forward over Sam’s shoulders. “Okay, stick both sides down under your new belt, there,” he instructed, stepping back.

Sam took the ends and tucked them through, frowning. Why did he have to process all of this new information when he hadn’t slept?

“Now what?” He asked his brother holding up the pieces that he had tucked through the belt part. “Do I tie these around Haddy?” 

Speaking of Haddy, she was completely at ease being cradled in Gadreel’s arms. The angel was humming and rocking her, smiling down at the baby like it was his. Sam tried his damnedest not to bristle at the scene. 

So Gadreel was good with kids. That was great! He would be able to help Dean through the next 18 years. 

18 years. 

Sam froze as the realization dawned on him that hunting with his brother was forever changed. Unless Gadreel and Cas wanted to play stay-at-home-dad, there was no way the Winchesters could go driving around the country on a whim every time they got a new case.

“You cross ‘em over each other and then tie them around your waist,” Dean interrupted his thoughts. He started to reach for the wrap’s ends and hugged himself instead, wincing. “Damn it…I really hope we have peanut butter.”

This was it, then. They were officially settling down. It figured that it was a case that got them to start families and get…well, not married, exactly. Or was it? Nobody had proposed to anybody, but they all seemed to be in this for the long haul. Sam couldn’t imagine a situation that would make Castiel leave, anyway. He didn’t actually know Gadreel all that well. 

Neither did Dean, but they sure had jumped to acting like a couple quick.

Placing a hand on Dean’s back, Gadreel leaned closer to kiss his cheek. 

“Perhaps we should walk towards the kitchen, my love.” 

My love?

Sam crossed the cloth pieces over each other and tied them around his waist, lost in thought again. 

He and Cas had a baby. A real, crying, tiny baby that needed to be protected and cared for until she grew up — in THIS world. A place where Lucifer himself had walked around messing with people’s lives for his own amusement. 

How in the world were they going to keep Haddy safe? 

Sam blinked out of his haze when he noticed his eyes were starting to tear up, quickly agreeing with Gadreel’s lingering comment. 

“Y-yeah. I think I need some coffee.” 

Dean groaned. 

“Lucky! You can have everything again. All I wanna do right now is shoot some whiskey and pass out,” he muttered, leaning against Gadreel’s side. He looked down at Haddy, who was cradled in the crook of the angel’s other arm, and smiled. “Hey, I wonder if Cas’s wings are black like hers.”

“They are, but they have real feathers. Haddy hasn’t grown into hers yet,” Sam said, stepping over to take the baby back. She just laid in the sling, right? He carefully wrapped it over the baby’s waist, mindful of her wings. 

Gadreel reached out and helped, shaking his head quickly. 

“No, Sam, you need to put her legs into place first.” 

With Gadreel’s help, the baby was resting comfortably against Sam’s chest in no time, sitting on the X part of the sling.

“Okay, now you wrap her up,” Dean said, stepping closer too. He helped pull first one shoulder side of the wrap over Haddy and then the other. Her little wings just barely cleared the edges of the wrap, and it felt like she was supported by the cloth securely. Dean pulled the waist part up and over her to rest just below the wings as well, then gently patted her back. “There you go, a baby angel burrito.”

It felt like Haddy was glued to Sam, but she seemed totally relaxed, tucking a balled hand under her chin as she rested her head against his chest. He couldn’t help a smile. She was adorable, especially when labeled with the phrase ‘baby angel burrito.’ 

“Thanks, it’ll be nice having my hands free,” Sam told them, gesturing off down the hallway. He started that way, resting his hands on the baby’s back. Thank goodness she wasn’t crying anymore. She was probably exhausted after the night they had. 

“Hey Gadreel,” Dean said from behind him, stepping after. He sounded tired, but relaxed. “Now I’m really wondering what your wings look like. Would it be weird to ask you to show me?”

“They’re—” Sam cut himself off. Was it weird that he had seen Gadreel’s wings first? Would Dean think it was some kind of sex thing? How would that work, if the wings were around during sex? Would it be weird if Sam asked Cas to try that…? 

Sam sleepily stepped down into the kitchen. Haddy was still out like a light, so he made a beeline for the coffee maker. 

“I can show you,” he heard Gadreel telling Dean. 

“Awesome,” Dean replied, wincing. “I’ll have to take a rain check on it, though. I-if I don’t find some peanut butter soon, or crackers, or — or both, I think the kids are gonna get feisty.” He moved over and started shakily looking through the cabinets. 

After a moment, he pulled out a garish orange box and studied the back with a frown. “Think Nutter-Whatters would work? They’re peanut butter…flavored, and cracker…ish.”

Gadreel joined him, pulling open random cabinets. 

“Would you like anything to dip them in?” The angel pulled a couple of cans down and offered them to Dean. “Applesauce or mushroom soup, perhaps?” 

Hitting the button on the coffee maker, Sam went to settle in at the dining room table, leaning back against the wall. Did he just hear something about peanut butter and cream of mushroom soup? Dean wasn’t actually going to eat that, was he? 

Sitting down had been a serious mistake. Sam didn’t even get to hear Dean’s reply before he drifted off.


	32. Happy Thoughts

“I’m swearing off Nutter-Whatters,” Dean muttered, half to himself and half to the twins. These two were going to be a handful, he could already tell. What kind of angels made you crave peanut buttery things and then get nauseous and immediately throw them up? He’d barely made it to the hall bathroom in time, and before he was even done brushing his teeth, the babies were slapping him with cravings for mashed potatoes. 

PLAIN mashed potatoes. Just thinking about gravy kind of made him retch. As if he wasn’t already uncomfortable enough after a sleepless night of walking around the bunker hallways with Gadreel, hit by the occasional painful realization that there were two celestial wavelengths of (mischievous) intent using his soul as a bean bag chair…

And so here Dean was, waiting for the water to boil for instant mashed potatoes and trying to decide if he felt queasy still from the peanut butter or from lack of sleep. At least Gadreel could see the babies and tell if they were doing okay. 

“Hey,” he heard Sam mumble as he stopped at Dean’s side, the tiny angel baby still strapped to his chest. Haddy was sleeping soundly with her wings folded on her back. Sam looked like he’d been sleeping for awhile judging by the glossiness to his eyes and the clumsy way he pulled a coffee mug down from the cabinet. 

Dean glanced at him without lifting his head. He was leaning his face against one hand so hard it probably looked squished, but at the moment he just didn’t have the energy to care. 

“Hey,” he returned wearily.

Haddy looked so tiny and cute and perfectly content right now. As tired as he looked, Sam seemed perfectly suited to being a father, too — as usual, Dean was proud of him. The fact that Cas was still asleep was starting to worry Dean, though. Maybe somebody should check on him.

Noticing his concern, the twins sent a flutter of unease in response, which sort of felt like somebody jabbing a finger into Dean’s ribs from the inside-out. He cringed and sat up, hugging his stomach.

“Everything’s good, we’re all good here,” he told the babies, trying to think happy thoughts in their direction as well. 

Sam didn’t reply for a moment, he was too busy swigging down most of a cup of what appeared to be cold coffee. He made a face and sat the mug down, glancing uneasily down at Dean’s stomach. 

“Are you sure? Can you really wait a couple days?” Sammy looked sad as he added the last, resting one hand on Haddy’s back. 

“If Jack tries to move them and fails, that’s it — they die,” Dean pointed out, wincing as the babies picked up on the serious tone. He took a deep breath, patting his stomach and trying to speak in a friendly happy voice. “So yeah, I’m sure. I’ll make it work. Owww…” He groaned, leaning on the table again. “Jesus, you two, mashed potatoes aren’t even th-that great without gravy…” 

The water was boiling, but he really, really didn’t feel up to making even instant food. Gadreel was over there reading the instant mashed potatoes box with a very studious, slightly dubious look on his face. If he could handle mixing drinks at the bar, this would be easy, right?

Dean’s stomach was threatening to cramp again. Damn it, why did he have to think about gravy?

The guitar solo from _Stairway to Heaven_ interrupted that queasy thought, and he felt like groaning again. That was his ringtone. It was like six in the morning, who was calling at six in the morning…

“I can handle this, Dean. I’ll make you some tea to settle your stomach, as well.” Joining them at the counter, Gadreel patted Dean’s back gently. 

Sam headed back to sit at the kitchen table, cup of cold coffee in hand. 

“You should get that. If someone’s trying to call you this early, it must be serious,” he commented, nodding at Dean’s phone as he took another long drink from his mug.

Dean reached up and grabbed Gadreel’s hand, holding onto it while he reached for the phone with the other. The twins instantly felt better whenever their angel parent was nearby, and Dean did too.

Hitting the answer button on the phone screen, he set it to speakerphone and asked tiredly, “Hello?”

“Awake after all,” came a familiar Scottish lilt. Rowena sounded amused. “Sounds like maybe I woke you, though.” 

Dean rested his forehead against his free hand, sighing slowly. 

“I know about you and your beauty sleep, so this must be pretty damn important,” he said, pointedly.

“A wee bit,” the witch replied mildly. “Celeste and I stopped off in town for a few drinks and next thing you know, we’re set upon by a pack of Hellhounds. Five of the brutes, and not a crossroads in sight!” 

A…PACK of Hellhounds? Dean opened his mouth to reply, but before he could she was talking again. 

“Nothing I couldn’t ward off, of course. Then along comes the hound master, though, and before we killed him he had some VERY interesting things to say about the pearly gates closing for good. Something about angels going extinct, the great cosmic machine breaking down, and oh, all souls funneling on down to the pit from here on out by default?”

Dean finally let go of Gadreel’s hand, hugging both arms around his own stomach instead.

“Okay,” he said, offering no confirmation or denial. If Rowena got wind of what they were doing to fix that problem, there was no possible way she’d stay out of it.

“I don’t suppose you boys know anything about any of that? Or perhaps we could ask any handsome blue-eyed angels who happen to be there?”

Dean glanced back at Gadreel, flushing. She meant Cas, but the description fit him too.

“Uh. Well…” He looked at Sam, wondering if the witch joining them might be better. Maybe she could help Jack with the vessel-making spell somehow, or help stabilize moving the twins to their bodies, or… 

“Could you come by the bunker, actually?” Sam asked, coming over closer to the phone. He bounced the baby gently, frowning as she whimpered. Haddy started crying softly, balling her tiny hands into fists. Cringing, Sam turned the baby away from the phone, shushing her with a kiss on the head. “We could use some extra spell power,” he added back over his shoulder over Haddy’s fussing. 

“Well hello, Samuel,” Rowena replied curiously. “We’re in the middle of Nevada at the moment, so it’s going to be a couple of days yet. If it was an actual emergency, you boys would be the ones calling me.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. 

Haddy suddenly burst into tiny wails, and the twins seemed to pick up on it, because they chose right then to do the fluttery stabby soul thing. Dean winced, hugging himself tighter. Happy thoughts, he told himself, happy happy so-chipper-it’s-from-a-kids’-show happy thoughts.

“Maybe…we could have somebody p-pick you up,” Dean suggested. Did he smell mashed potatoes or was that just wishful thinking? The twins were suddenly happy either way, thank Chuck.

“It takes just as long to drive TO me, dear,” Rowena told him in a ‘bless your heart, you’re so stupid’ kind of tone. 

“Just pack up and be ready to leave,” Dean grumbled, hanging up. She’d figure out Cas’s wings were healed and that Jack could also fly soon enough…not mention Gadreel even being here after coming back from the dead. A lot had happened since she and Charlie had gone on their road trip after returning from Apocalypse World.

“It’s okay, Haddy,” Sam was saying, swaying on his feet to rock the baby. 

As soon as he noticed the call had ended, Gadreel turned his attention back to the potatoes. He turned the burner off and took the pot off of the stove. 

“Dean, are you certain that we can trust this woman?” 

“Her name’s Rowena. She’s a witch,” Sam told the angel, coming back over. “Can one of you guys make Haddy a bottle?” The brunette added tiredly over the crying baby. 

Dean stood and moved over to hug Gadreel sideways and kiss his cheek. He was so tired that he felt a little giddy. Gadreel being able to make instant mashed potatoes seemed like an extremely attractive trait right about now, and those looked like some awesome mashed potatoes, too.

“If anybody can make our homebrew witchcraft work better, it’s Rowena,” he explained, trying to focus on the conversation at hand at least slightly. “And, uh, I can get the bottle, Sammy.” 

The twins were so happy about just the smell of the potatoes, maybe Dean could get away with heating Haddy’s bottle before they noticed he wasn’t actually eating food yet. He got out a little sauce pan and quickly pulled out the can of formula. 

“Should I wake Castiel so that he can fetch her? We do not have time to waste.” Gadreel stepped up behind Dean to catch him gently in his arms and place a shiver-worthy kiss on the back of his neck. 

“This isn’t just about the twins, though. You heard what she said, right? Heaven’s gates might be closing permanently? We need to get the angel WiFi up AND make the twins vessels,” Sam told them grumpily while pacing around the room. Haddy seemed to be just as upset as before. “Twins, first, though.” 

“I agree,” Gadreel replied, slipping his arms away from around Dean’s waist. “I shall wake Castiel and send him to get the witch.” 

Dean turned around with the baby formula in one hand, shooting Gadreel a fond look. 

“Thanks, handsome,” he said. Remembering Sam was standing grumpily right over by the table, Dean quickly turned back to measuring out the formula and water into the pan. He wasn’t sure whether he was flustered or guilty or both. “Don’t be gone too long, huh?”

“I shall return as quickly as I can,” Gadreel assured him. The angel’s voice was followed by the sound of wings and he was gone. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Dean could hear Sam saying softly to Haddy. The baby had quieted to whining instead of outright screaming. 

Dean stirred the formula, peeking over his shoulder at them both. He and Sam had saved the world, stopped the apocalypse, come back from death and worse, yet the thought of raising babies still made Dean uneasy. What if he messed them up? What if they turned out like him…? 

There was a twinge from his soul in response to the worrying. He quickly sent warm happy thoughts at the twins so they wouldn’t think it was their fault. It really wasn’t. 

The formula was heating, so he got out a bowl and spoon and served out a big scoop of mashed potatoes, taking a bite. They smelled fantastic, and tasted even better.

“Bottle’s almost ready,” he told Sam, leaning on the counter to face him.

Gadreel blinked into existence, stepping over immediately to wrap an arm around Dean’s shoulders. “Castiel is on his way to this Rowena witch. It was difficult to wake him.” 

Sam came back across the room, dumping more cold coffee into his mug. He yawned when he went to sip it, though. 

Dean caught a little smirk on Gadreel’s face as the angel watched Sam. The two of them seemed content to set aside their differences for the moment. It was still weird to see them hanging around in the same space without scowls or threats. 

Maybe being uncles to each other’s kids would end with them actually friends.

There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of Dean’s stomach, and he didn’t like it. Mashed potatoes were the mildest thing ever — how could they make him feel queasy? 

Turning toward Gadreel, Dean leaned against his side. The twins were still demanding mashed potatoes, but his stomach was threatening violence. This sucked. Hopefully Rowena could assist Jack and this whole thing would move on to the next stage: keep the pearly gates from closing for good.


	33. Brave, Stupid Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! As you have probably noticed, we've fallen off the weekly update wagon. Real Life (TM) is bustling lately, and we haven't had as much time to write as we would like. We'd love to update every Tuesday again, but might miss a week here and there until life settles down. Thank you for reading our story! ♥

“Look at you! You’re flying!” Holding Haddy up in front of him, Sam smiled and kissed her cheek. Haddy giggled as she looked around behind them. The bunker hallways weren’t much to look at, but the baby looked so happy, it was hard for Sam to remember that Heaven might be closing soon. 

Whether they stopped that or not, Sam had realized that he had to teach Haddy about all the monsters in the world. Maybe even train her to be a hunter. The thought of his tiny angel facing off with any of the monsters that he had met over his life was horrifying.

Propping her up in his arms, Sam continued down the hall a little less happily. The library door was just ahead. Cas was grabbing Rowena and bringing her to the bunker, so they were probably waiting in there. Haddy was about to meet her first witch.

The ruffle of feathers behind Sam made him jump slightly. Castiel appeared there and then frowned as he glanced around, realizing he hadn’t flown far.

“Sam,” he said sheepishly, “Uh, hello. Hello Hadramiel.” He stepped closer and leaned to kiss Haddy’s head, smiling down at her before moving to kiss Sam’s cheek as well. “Rowena is in the library.”

Sam kissed the angel’s cheek in return, looping an arm around him.

“Thanks for getting her here. Hopefully, between the three of us, we can figure out the WiFi.” Sam led Cas along on the way to the door, checking on Haddy. The small girl was looking around in wonder, leaned forward against Sam’s arm with her wings stretched out. She seemed particularly fascinated with the brick along the hall, reaching a hand for it.

Cas reached for the door, holding it open for Sam. 

“I haven’t told Rowena much about what we’re doing,” he said quietly. “She brought spell ingredients, though.”

Through the door, Sam saw the witch’s fiery hair and petite figure wrapped in a forest green dress. She had her back to them and was standing in the middle of what remained of the magic circle from their original spell for the grace-gathering sigils. Jack hadn’t been kidding about using paint on the floor.

Stepping inside, Sam cleared his throat to get Rowena’s attention, turning Haddy in his arm to lean against his shoulder. The baby’s big blue eyes were locked on Rowena’s back.

“Thank you for coming to help,” Sam called to her. “Those symbols are for the wrong spell, though.”

“Sex magic, boys?” Rowena turned to face Sam, red lips curving into a smirk. As usual, she had dramatic and glamorous eyeshadow on that accented her green eyes. “So full of surprises. You’d best tell me which brave souls took part in this, and why.”

Haddy made a little cooing sound and flexed her wings, making the redhead notice her. Rowena’s brows rose.

“Hell’s bells, you work fast.”

Ignoring the warmth on his face suddenly, Sam smiled nervously, stepping closer to show her the baby.

“Rowena, this is Hadramiel.” Of course a witch could tell what kind of magic they were using. Why hadn’t they erased the sigils? They could have put a rug over them, at least. “She’s mine and, uh, Cas’s.”

Rowena moved right over and offered a graceful hand to Haddy, looking over her tiny wings with interest. 

“Well aren’t you a precious wee thing,” she said to the baby sweetly. “Poor dear, you’re just here as part of some hunter mission, aren’t you?”

“No,” Cas cut in firmly, frowning.

Rowena sat up to glance between him and Sam, letting Haddy keep hold of her hand. The baby was distracted by her glossy nail polish. 

“Surely you haven’t dabbled in something of this caliber just for yourselves,” she said knowingly. “Especially not between the two of you — you’re not exactly making sparks fly about. I do admire the dedication with the sex part and all, though.”

She smirked as both men shifted awkwardly on their feet. Castiel cleared his throat loudly and ran a hand through his hair.

“We, uh…”

“Why don’t you tell me all about it over a cup of tea,” Rowena suggested, wiggling the fingers Haddy was examining with great interest. 

“Or coffee,” Sam suggested, leading the way back out of the room. Haddy looked sad that she had to let go of Rowena’s hand, whining and squirming around in Sam’s arms. “We started out just trying to make full sized angels, then…things got complicated.”

“Complicated? You mean INTERESTING,” Rowena corrected him, hurrying to keep stride with him. “If this is about that pearly gates crashing shut thing, it’s certainly a CREATIVE solution. None of those sigils would have summoned the necessary power to actually do this, though.” She waved back over her shoulder like they were still anywhere near the library. “Where is it coming from, Sam? If I know you Winchesters, someone’s bargained away something awful to muster this kind of power.”

Before Sam could reply, he heard voices from the open kitchen door. 

“…Just couldn’t sleep,” Jack was saying unhappily.

“Know the feeling,” Dean muttered.

Cas glanced at Sam and hurried past him and Rowena into the kitchen.

Sam stopped abruptly, giving Cas a chance to run ahead and warn the others. Dean knew Rowena was coming by, but Jack didn’t.

“Look, Cas and I are together now. We hadn’t planned it or for Haddy to be an actual baby, but here we are. As for the how, there weren’t any deals or demons involved. We’re using grace.”

Rowena stood back a bit and looked at him thoughtfully. 

“UsING, not used? You don’t have to maintain her to keep the little dear alive, do you?” She asked, gaze moving to Haddy. The baby was once again mesmerized watching the witch’s every move. “Is that what you need my help with, perhaps?”

“No, no. Haddy’s fine. Heaven just wants nothing to do with her or the twins, so we wanted to rig up some kind of one-way angelic spell to send energy up to Heaven and keep the lights on. I wrote out a plan, but I could really use some help making it work. The size of the spell circle is ridiculous.” Sam kissed the baby’s head and rocked her gently. It was amazing how much happier she was with a full stomach and a clean diaper.

“Twins?” Rowena glanced at the door. “Don’t tell me there’s enough angel to go ‘round for both of you boys…” 

As if on cue, Castiel stepped into the doorway, waving them closer. 

“It’s a little crowded,” he said apologetically. “I put on the kettle for the tea.”

“What a gentleman,” Rowena replied meaningfully, all sorts of thoughts crossing her expression as she looked him over again. Cas squinted at her as she walked past him into the kitchen.

“You really think Cas would do THAT? Or Dean?” Sam trailed after her, blushing profusely. Before he could actually explain anything, Gadreel looked up from his seat at the kitchen table with Dean.

The angel had a cup of coffee in hand and his other arm over Dean’s shoulders, a bowl of half eaten mashed potatoes in front of Dean.

“The witch, I presume,” Gadreel said calmly, sipping his coffee.

WHY he was drinking coffee was still beyond Sam. Maybe he liked the taste of molecules.

“Her name is Rowena,” he told Gadreel in passing, heading to check on Jack.

The Nephilim was hovering over by the coffee pot, holding a glass of orange juice in both hands and looking nervous. He had the same rumpled clothes on as last time Sam had seen him, and his hair was sort of a mess, a few blond strands curling out across his forehead. Jack’s gaze moved from Sam’s face straight to Haddy as Sam approached. 

“Hi,” he said softly, leaning to peek around Sam at Rowena. The witch and Gadreel were still sizing each other up over there, neither looking terribly impressed with the other. “I-I know, I should be sleeping.”

“You should be,” Sam said just as softly, resting a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” 

If he wasn’t resting up, they’d have to wait even longer to get the twins into their vessels. While Sam was worried about their and Dean’s safety, Jack was obviously under the weather too. They may have called Rowena in just in time.

Jack fidgeted, taking a sip of his orange juice. 

“I know we have no choice,” he began, glancing up at Sam. He looked at Haddy next, brows pinching sadly. “And I-I know nobody can do it except for me. But I could mess this up, Sam. If I fail, and Dean dies, and the babies die, nobody’ll ever f-forgive me. I won’t forgive me!”

He sat the orange juice on the counter abruptly, putting a hand over his face. Sam thought maybe he heard a tiny sniffle from behind the hand. 

“Dean’s getting worse, I have to…”

“Hey, it’s going to be alright. Rowena’s here and she’s really powerful. She’ll keep Dean safe until you feel better. Okay?” Sam moved closer to hug him, rubbing Jack’s back. It wasn’t fair that he had all this pressure on him. He was just a kid, himself.

Gadreel got up from the table and came over to them, concern on his face.

“Are you alright, Jack?”

Jack reluctantly pulled away from Sam’s hug, rubbing at his eyes.

“Yes…” He looked at Gadreel and welled up in tears again, though. “Dean’s in a lot of pain, isn’t he? H-he looks terrible.”

“M’fine,” Dean muttered from over at the table. He hadn’t moved from his chair since Sam had arrived, and he really did look pale. Besides, in Winchester-speak ‘fine’ meant anything but. The less comfortable Dean was, though, the stronger the twins were getting, right? In a lousy way, it was a good sign.

Jack didn’t look convinced.

“Rowena,” Sam turned back to the red-haired witch and waved her closer. “Can you take a look at Dean?” 

Between Jack or Dean, it wasn’t likely that Rowena could do anything to help Jack. He just needed to rest. 

Sam adjusted his hold on Haddy as she twisted in his arms to look at Jack. It seemed like she could tell that Jack was upset. Rocking her, Sam stepped back over to Jack and offered him the baby. “I’m sorry, can you hold Haddy for a minute?”

The Nephilim immediately held his arms out to take her, sniffling a tiny bit. 

“Y-yes, of course.” As soon as Sam handed Haddy to him, he mustered a smile for the baby, cradling her on her back. “Hello, Hadramiel.”

Over by the table, Sam heard Rowena telling Dean, “So from all of those sigils in the other room, I gather there’s an angel or two crowded in there along with one brave, possibly-stupid soul?”

Dean made a grumbling noise that wasn’t really words and sat up in his chair. 

“Two.”

Rowena looked between him and Gadreel thoughtfully. 

“And which one are you again?” She asked, arching a brow. Cue more grumbly noises from Dean.

Stepping around to rest both hands on Dean’s shoulders, Gadreel gave Rowena a small nod.

“I am Gadreel, the father of Dean’s children.”

Sam blushed a bit at that, focusing his attention on Jack and the baby. Haddy looked at ease in Jack’s arms, smiling and grabbing at the Nephilim’s fingers.

“Are you hungry, Jack? I can make us some toast if you want,” Sam offered. It was always easier to sleep on a full stomach, if Dean was any indication.

Jack blinked at the offer, like food hadn’t even occurred to him. He glanced at his forgotten glass of orange juice over on the counter and shrugged, tickling Haddy’s tummy with his free hand. 

“Okay. If you want,” he said, focusing on the tiny angel, who was making even tinier giggly sounds. Jack had to smile at that.

Abruptly, Dean jumped up from his chair and bolted off into the hallway, making them both glance over there. Rowena looked after him, exasperated. 

“Thought he looked a bit green around the gills,” she remarked, crossing her arms.

Jack looked at her.

“See? He can’t eat. If Dean doesn’t eat, he’ll DIE,” he said anxiously. “He told me he might even die if he just eats vegetables.”

“I’ll check on him.” Sam cringed, heading after his brother. He hadn’t noticed before, but Cas wasn’t in the kitchen with everyone. Sam paused by the door, glancing back at the others. Was it a good idea to leave Rowena and Gadreel alone with Jack? Gadreel seemed pretty devoted to their cause and his unborn children…

The angel looked his way, apparently noticing Sam’s staring. Sam looked back, trying to pick up on any hint of what Gadreel was thinking. He seemed as calm as ever, waiting by the kitchen table for Dean to come back.

“Would you prefer that I do?” Gadreel asked, heading to Sam.

“No, I can,” Sam insisted, waving him away and ducking out into the hall. Dean was probably done barfing by now anyway.


	34. Help

There was no sign of Cas in the hallway. Dean was emerging from the bathroom down the way, leaning one hand on the wall and hugging around his stomach with the other. He was talking quietly in a slightly pained yet friendly tone. 

“…Not gonna eat anything else for awhile. …O-okay, okay, maybe one taco.” He made a face and winced. “T-two, one for each, how’s that? Good? Jesus you guys really are my kids…”

“They are,” Sam agreed, stopping at Dean’s side and putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll pick them up, if you want,” he offered. If Dean couldn’t eat, he was going to be miserable.

MORE miserable.

Up close, he saw that Dean’s face was flushed, and there was sweat on his forehead. He looked like he might actually be sick, feverish sick. 

“Let’s wait a bit,” he mumbled, wincing. “Thanks, but…oww…I-I better just go sit down right now.”

He started very slowly past Sam, still leaning one hand on the hallway wall. 

Sam sighed, pulling Dean’s arm up over his shoulder.

“Are you really okay? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I’m fantastic,” Dean replied wearily, leaning on his brother. He really did feel too warm. “Passing out doesn’t sound so bad right now.”

The flutter of feathers and a whoosh of moving air ruffled Sam’s hair. It was Cas, apparently flying to them in the hallway. He didn’t look so well, himself, and was holding a hand to his temple.

“Sam, Dean,” the angel said, looking at them uneasily. “Heaven isn’t well.”

“What?” Sam asked, holding Cas’ arm. He wasn’t sure who was in more danger of passing out — both of them looked ill. “Are you okay, Cas? What’s wrong with Heaven?”

Castiel didn’t lean on Sam’s side, but he walked close to him. 

“It’s angel radio,” he explained, looking around Sam at Dean. 

The older Winchester groaned a little and hugged his stomach tighter with one arm. 

“I’m only catching bits and pieces, but it sounds like the angels are in a panic,” Cas continued worriedly. “Heaven’s having, uh…I guess you’d call them ‘brown outs’.”

They needed more time, Sam thought. He still hadn’t even explained his spell to Rowena. She hadn’t even started working on it!

“I-I need to talk to Rowena,” Sam told them, hauling Dean along down the hall back to the kitchen.

Everybody in the room looked at them as they stepped through the kitchen door, Jack with dread, like Dean might be dying. Gadreel was over with the Nephilim by the table now, Haddy still cradled in Jack’s arms, and Rowena was pouring a cup of tea. 

“Gadreel,” Dean said faintly, practically under his breath.

“Yes, my love?” Gadreel said, hurrying over to take Dean out of Sam’s hold. The angel felt his forehead and then his cheek, frowning. “Your soul…”

“His soul?” Sam pressed, looking between them. “What’s wrong with his soul?”

“Dean, you cannot stay like this,” Gadreel told Dean in a whisper.

“Rowena!” Sam waved to the witch. “We need to work on the spell.”

“Let me help,” Jack said, watching Dean anxiously. Sam’s brother was hugging Gadreel and burying his nose in the angel’s shoulder. 

Rowena watched this, too, shaking her head slightly.

“You boys never do anything halfway, I’ve noticed,” she told Sam, sighing and picking up her teacup. “I’ve got the gist of the spell that got Dean into such a state, so I’d best try to deal with that before we move on to pearly gates problems. He doesn’t look like he’s up to waiting around.”

Sweeping Dean up into his arms, Gadreel headed for the door, calling back over his shoulder.

“We will be in the library!”

Turning back to Rowena and Cas, Sam wasn’t sure what to do. Jack wasn’t up to it and it sure as Hell wasn’t fair to put the pressure of moving the twins on him when he was exhausted.

“We can’t make Jack do this,” he said at last.

“Sam, I have to!” Jack protested, glancing quickly between him and Gadreel’s retreating back out the door. “We have to help Dean and the babies. We don’t even have the vessels made yet, we need to hurry. I-I can do it, I have to do it.”

Sitting her tea aside, Rowena turned to the Nephilim and tentatively patted his shoulder.

“If it’s a spell you’re using, show me which one. No-one here is actually a witch but yours truly, so maybe there’s another way to do what you’ve been doing without using quite so much power.”  


* * *

  
Dean was pretty sure he was still awake. Reasonably sure. Okay, not ‘sure’ but it seemed likely. 

Hey, he didn’t remember passing out, that had to count for something.

Gadreel just said something about the library and picked Dean up like he was light as a feather, and now they were going somewhere. The library, probably. It was hard to judge how long ago the comment had been, or where exactly they were. 

Dean was in the kind of warm, woozy haze he recognized as a really high fever. The angel babies on board seemed to be trying to hold still, but it wasn’t helping. Them being there at all felt like a stab in the stomach and a really bad leg cramp put together. Curling in a ball on the floor sounded pretty damn good right about now.

And how could he feel like barfing again when he hadn’t even eaten anything since last time?

“Why l…library?” He asked Gadreel, gritting his teeth. How big could the babies possibly be? Hopefully not Chrystler Building sized like Cas said his real self was. Nah, they were babies. They were probably only like one story high. Okay, imagining that literally had been a mistake…

A cool hand brushed over his cheek as he was placed down on an equally cold floor.

“We need space for the spell,” Gadreel told him. “Try and rest. The witch must study the ceremony.”

“Ugh…n-not yet,” Dean groaned, rolling onto his side to hug his stomach. He opened his eyes and found himself far too close to the library floor for comfort. Damn, they needed to sweep in here more often. “Jack’s not ready…” 

It was true, but Gadreel was right, too — Dean couldn’t really stay like this much longer. Especially not if the angel saw something wrong with his soul. Dean’s soul wasn’t all scarred up like Sam’s, though, it should be able to handle more, right? 

But it had, really. Dean had twice the angels piggybacking along on his soul, and he’d been carrying them around longer than Sam had Haddy onboard. If the brothers weren’t ideal archangel vessels, this whole damn plan probably would’ve killed them both already.

“Dean,” Gadreel breathed, leaning down to rest a strong arm over his back. “We must. You and our children are in danger.” The angel softly pressed a kiss to Dean’s forehead.

Somewhere in the background, Dean could hear Sam talking, but too quietly to understand.

Dean huffed and squeezed his eyes closed, glad Gadreel was sticking close by. That was way more reassuring than he would ever admit. 

He kept his eyes closed as he nodded to the angel.

“I-I know. You’re right.”

Dean was tough, he could deal if it was just him, but he didn’t want the twins to get hurt. Up until now they’d been in perfect health, they couldn’t screw this up now and risk the babies…

Dean heard the angel hiss in pain, though he didn’t move away.

“We just to hurry,” Gadreel was saying, but it wasn’t to Dean.

“I know, I know,” Sam said quietly, now closer than before.

After a second, Gadreel leaned closer again, resting his forehead against Dean’s.

“You need to rest. I can make you sleep, if you’ll allow it.”

Dean searched his fuzzy thoughts for any reason why that wouldn’t be safe. The angel babies didn’t need him to calm them down, he was damn near useless laying here…and being unconscious was a tempting offer.

“H-Hell yeah,” he told Gadreel, trying to smile along with it. It probably looked more like a grimace.

He had about two seconds to worry about that before he was out like a light.  


* * *

  
“Is this everything?” Sam asked impatiently, pacing along the spell circle to check the symbols over again. If anyone would know spell work, it’d be Rowena, right?

Putting Dean to sleep was nice of Gadreel, but Dean’s grumbling and groaning had been reassuring signs that he was alive. Sam couldn’t help glancing at his brother every time he got the chance. If only he could see souls.

“We’re recycling just the same circle you used to make the first vessel,” Rowena said, businesslike. “I’ve put some finishing touches on it so I can help Jack power the spell, but we need blood from the fathers before we can begin.” She looked over at Gadreel and Dean, who were both still on the floor, and sighed a little. “Making soulless bodies from blood is more in the school of necromancy, for your future reference, Samuel.”

“Sam,” Jack said grimly, stepping over next to the tall hunter’s side. “I’d better give Hadramiel back now. I don’t want her in the middle of the spell circle with me.”

“Of course,” Sam told him, carefully taking the baby back. 

Haddy was still a bit fussy, which made Sam worry that she might be able to hear angel radio. Hopefully that wasn’t the case. They had enough to worry about with getting her cousins into their vessels. 

“Jack, can you help Gadreel get the blood?” Sam asked the Nephilim, offering him the little brass bowl that Sam forgot he had been holding when he took the baby back. “You just need a little. Right?” He added, glancing at Rowena.

“Just a wee bit,” the redhead agreed, waving Jack that way. “Hurry, dear.” 

Putting on a determined look, Jack grabbed a knife from the pile of spell tools on the table and stepped quickly over to Gadreel.

Rowena turned back to the spell circle and looked over the newly repainted sigils with a small frown. 

“We’ll need your handsome angel for this as well, Sam,” she murmured. Cas had managed to disappear in the commotion again; Sam last saw him hurrying to the library with everyone else, but he wasn’t in the room.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Sam tried to reach Cas with prayer. 

“Cas, we need your help. Where are you?”

He felt bad about just standing around with the baby, but there wasn’t much he could do. This spell was about the angels and Dean.

Castiel appeared abruptly by Sam’s side with the sound of wings beating the air. He had a hand to his head again, but quickly turned and placed it on Sam’s shoulder instead, brows furrowing.

“I’m here, Sam. I’m sorry, Naomi’s, uh. Dean would say she’s ‘giving me an earful’,” he said wearily. Seeing Jack returning to the magic circle with a bloody knife and the little brass bowl, Cas looked over at Dean laying on the floor with Gadreel beside him. “We’re ready to make the vessels,” he realized, impressed. “That was fast. Rowena must be helping.”

“I can direct the power, but this spell uses angel healing to make the bodies,” the witch cut in as she lit candles around the spell circle, “So I’m not as helpful as I’d like.”

“Any help is enough.” Leaning to kiss Castiel’s cheek, Sam nodded to the circle. “Please hurry.”

Cas gave him an almost wistful look before he headed over to the circle to join the others.

Pouring half of the contents of the brass bowl into each of the big metal ones, Jack placed them onto either side of the little round table they’d stuck in the spell circle. He waved Gadreel and Cas over closer.

“Just like the last time,” he said, reassuring himself as much as them. “Everyone put your hands in the blood.” 

The two angels put their hands into the bowls, and Jack placed his hands on top of theirs. His eyes were flickering gold already as Rowena stepped over and took up the last open side of the table, resting small hands on top of the Nephilim’s. 

“Alright, boys, let's begin.”


End file.
